Depthless
by Americana Psychotica
Summary: 7th year AU; The summer of seventh year finds Harry, the Weasleys, and the Grangers forced to stay with the Malfoys. A dare gone wrong leaves Draco, Harry, and Ron trapped beneath the waves in a twisted reality created by nymphs with strange motives.
1. Lake Woes

**Disclaimer (almost forgot this. Eheheh...): I do not and never have, nor hope to own Harry Potter.**

**A/N-**

I'm...not sure where this came from, though I have three ideas as to what influenced it; 1. So What, by Pink, 2. Animal City, by Shakira, and 3. a trailer for Pirates of the Caribbean 4. 1 and 2 I was listening to, and 3 inspired me as to merpeople (they seem to be downright murderous in it).

So here's Depthless! Seventh year (well, summer of seventh year) AU, though technically the AU extends to the end of sixth year; Draco wasn't even in Hogwarts after the bathroom incident, and Harry went out with the Order (read: snuck out) to save the Malfoys, who sent a plea to Sirius to get them out.

As to the narrator (as in, the voice as you may hear it while reading) it's not me. I'm not sure where it's coming from, so Imma say its my muse (not Felix, for those of you who have read my other stuff). Also, I say the word Slytherine (possibly more than once). It's not me misspelling it, it's my personal adjective for all things Slytherin (generally applied to personality traits). Z uses it too, but whatever, she was there when we came up with it, so of course.

It's a little long winded at first, but hopefully it gets better. It also doesn't seem like Draco remembers the bathroom incident, but if you pay attention to the first part, maybe you'll get it.

Read on, review if it appeals or if it sucked (or if you want to nitpick, I love that; I miss stuff and nothing is beta'd), and enjoy!

* * *

><p>The water was unseasonably still – not even the blast of wind from the sea some miles away did anything to ruffle its crystalline surface. The teenagers, gathered around the water's edge, could not care less.<p>

Of the seven, the three boys were the most animated, though the distinct differences in their demeanors was striking. The tallest, a gangly redhead, was bristling, but seemed not to be nearly as irate as his companion, a small brunette who almost sparked with anger; his emotion did indeed summon some energy similar to static electricity – or perhaps his hair always looked like a bird's nest. It was clear, of course, that he held enormous power, though perhaps not of the sort that so many would assume; it was the power of heart, but alas, the brain and its unfortunate hormones released with puberty blocked what little of it he had, lending its power only to ferocious displays of temper and obnoxious teenage stunts.

If the brunette was lightning harnessed by flesh, then the final male, a blonde of aristocratic bearing, was the sea. In contrast to the brunette's heart, worn on his sleeve (where also resided his dignity and rare shows of blatant intelligence), the blonde's facade was deceiving, appearing calm, serene – save when faced with the bright anger of his rival. Then the ice shattered, revealing the roiling depths that sought to devour anything that dared challenge it. It was almost a living thing, his anger, and barely controlled when at its peak. This, however, was not the case today.

Today, if Potter said another word, he was going to lose his head.

* * *

><p>Draco hadn't been consulted when his parents left the Dark Lord's cause, pledging themselves to the brittle Order with their foolish do-gooders and irritating moral code. Though some few could have had promising futures straddling the line between Light and Dark (or promising futures settled completely in the Dark, as Severus was.), the majority of that association were entirely Light, and furiously opposed to the slightest hint of darkness, proven often in their blatant distrust of their so-called Saviour, though they struggled often to hide it behind meaningless words concerning his safety.<p>

He could have forgiven his parents their shifting loyalties; he understood the difference between true loyalty and fighting for the winning side. His family was Dark; they supported Dumbledore only to survive.

He could have forgiven them, even, for forcing him to spend time with the redheads (who he swore were part rodent; how the hell did that woman spawn them so quickly otherwise?), if only to foster some sort of trust (still lacking, and he doubted it would change.). He could endure any amount of Weasleys, and he could even endure fostering the Mudblood (ah, wait – Muggleborn. He had to be politically correct now.) and her parents, with their strange and often irritating Muggle ways. The fact that Pansy was spending the summer with them as well softened the blow.

He could not forgive them for not fighting to keep Potter away from him.

The irritating Gryffindor was always underfoot, and it dredged up a horrific realization – he was, unbeknownst to the idiot Saviour and thank the gods for that, very much like Harry Potter, at least as far as interests went. He would not admit to or accept any other level of recognition, though occasionally he would have a lapse and admit that Potter could be downright Slytherine when he wanted to be. Of course, this usually only occurred after he'd been fighting with him and had been forced to retreat to lick his wounds (with dignity, and only rarely at that – Potter was nowhere near a match for him in wit, though in physical confrontations...). Severus seemed to find this amusing; the man had even driven the pathetic Gryffindors to confusion by treating them with mild acceptance, though he did force Ronald (Draco had since dropped Weasley, he couldn't afford to have them all appear at once when he was only trying to insult one of them.) and Potter to endure tutoring (much to Granger's vicious glee.).

They had all arrived, one after the other, early that summer. Draco had been expecting a brutal break, chock full of fits from the psychotic overlord of darkness and his own beloved auntie (why she hadn't been put down, especially after pushing Sirius Black through the veil and having him pull himself back up as if nothing had happened, he would never know and didn't bother trying to understand; he did harbor a sort of twisted affection for her, but it was distant and small.), not a relatively peaceful respite only broken by the occasional grumbles from Ronald. He had even been offered a truce by the youngest and the twins – Ginny (as she demanded he call her, on pain of hex) had apparently come out to her family as a lesbian and needed some sort of interaction outside of the mostly strained, awkward ones within her family. Draco, an out and proud gay teen with no qualms about it, bonded in the slightest with her and her bisexual twin brothers, but never managed to really penetrate the wall of venom between himself and Ronald – unsurprising and not exactly unwelcome. He wasn't certain he was ready to play nice with the other wizard just yet.

Granger's arrival had been a total shock, and though his parents only barely managed the coldest sliver of civility he'd ever seen, he had not reacted so maturely. The scolding from both his own mother and (to his absolute mortification) Molly Weasley had been both scathing and long winded, and alarmingly eloquent, bordering on being completely incomprehensible at some points. So he'd disappeared into the woods surrounding the Malfoys' summer home for three days; so there was a vengeful madman with an army of Dark witches and wizards out to get him and his family; did it really require three hours of reprimand?

He'd eventually escaped and apologized to Granger. A mostly stable truce was formed, and Pansy arrived soon after, leaving him mostly content despite the influx of Gryffindors and Light practitioners at that.

Potter's arrival was melodramatic (though it was obviously not his intent) and almost as unexpected as Granger's, though his mother, remembering that fiasco, hinted throughout the week previous that they would be receiving another Order member soon enough. Though he had braced himself for the worst he could imagine (that being Lupin or Dumbledore), he was nevertheless dumbstruck when, with a flash of lightning and rumble of thunder, Harry Potter stumbled through the enormous double doors, followed by his jovial godfather and a resigned Lupin. His reaction was only fractionally more mature, and he found himself almost immediately engaged in a fight with the Gryffindor, broken up by Ronald, much to his surprise and Potter's irritation. The brunette gave him a wide berth after that, but when cabin fever kicked in, he actually sought him out for a minimally friendly Quidditch match. He found himself with the twins, while Ronald and Ginny backed Harry, and the game was on, ending with them both touching the Snitch at the same time before it exploded into rainbow glitter that, despite furious scrubbing, charms, and potions, would not leave his hair for a week after the fact (courtesy of one Sirius Black, who fled the field cackling maniacally and was not seen for the rest of the day after Draco realized he could not get rid of it.). With all of those who were to join them arrived, the Malfoys tightened security and sealed the grounds; the summer wore on, ricocheting back and forth between angry confrontations and shaky peaces that usually shattered with the twins or Black unleashing some new madness on them at semi-regular intervals. It was in this environment that the strange feeling in them all burgeoned, a sensation of change yet to come, hovering on the horizon, waiting to engulf them in a single word, waiting with all the patience of the ever working spider – spinning its web until its prey had no where else to go.

* * *

><p>Ginny sighed and scooted closer to Hermione to avoid another hex, smirking a little when Ron, holding Harry back at arm's length with one hand, pushed the small brunette into the water before joining them, whistling cheerfully. Draco escaped the same fate by joining Pansy on the other side of the clearing with his newly arrived cousin – a surprise no one save Dumbledore and Snape had known about, apparently. Harry dragged himself back to shore, sputtering and swearing, staying still long enough for Draco to shoot a drying charm at him before he tackled Ron and miraculously returned the deed, shoving him into the water before he collapsed with a thump at the base of the tree with them.<p>

"Uhg. I smell-"

"Like a wet dog, similarly to how your godfather smells." He wrinkled his nose at Hermione's bland assessment.

"Right." He stretched out on his back, staring at the branches unfurling above them while Ron heaved himself onto dry land and dried himself off, laughing. She was rather in awe of his recent maturity; though he hadn't exactly gone out of the way to be nice to Draco, he'd at least remained cognizant of who their host was and tried to diffuse most of the fights between Harry and Draco before they got out of control. Neve, Draco's cousin, took up a similar role, becoming a mediator of sorts for them all. The soft spoken witch was what Ginny thought of as a sunshine blonde; her hair was the shade often hailed as being golden or tawny, and was often the envy of every woman who saw it. Ginny could honestly say she'd once wanted hair like Neve's, until Hermione had voiced an innocent opinion, informing Ginny she preferred her hair color to Neve's – something about it making her feel warm. Ginny hadn't been paying attention, having focused on the original statement and unraveling it, searching for some sign that Hermione liked her as much as she did Hermione. Of course, the comment had had no such connotations, but it nevertheless gave Ginny hope. Harry (once he expressed amusement over her surprise that he'd known she was a lesbian, before she even had,) found her crush absolutely hilarious, much to Ginny's chagrin, but he never betrayed her to Hermione, who was absolutely, adorably and frustratingly clueless.

* * *

><p>Pansy was entertaining similar thoughts (as well as wondering with no small amount of awe at how, even wet, Potter's hair refused to cooperate), though she was attempting to fulfill her obligation to Draco's considerable ego and listen to him.<p>

"Pansy Parkinson!" She started and met his eyes guiltily, trying in vain to ignore Neve's small snicker (and even _that _action seemed innocent! She'd never met a member of the Malfoy family who was so _wholesome_.).

"I'm sorry Draco. I'm a little distracted." The blonde sighed and looked over at Neve.

"Well? What do you think?" Neve wrinkled her nose a little and pushed a lock of her hair out of her face.

"I'm certain you are ever so slightly obsessed, darling cousin, but given the years of enduring his supposed pride and refusal to worship the ground you walk on, I can see why. You've certainly never had to fight for someone's attention before." Draco groaned.

"I am _not _obsessed – oi, Potter! Quit trying to drown yourself; much as we'd love the peace and quiet, we need you to fight the big ugly, and you won't be able to do it if you're dead!" Harry gaped at him while Ron removed himself from the area, whistling again as if he hadn't just been dunking his best friend without mercy. The brunette shook himself off, ignoring Hermione's irritated comparison to a dog, and stalked over to the blonde, who rose with as much nonchalance as he could manage when facing off with his rival – again. They both were cut off by Ginny's startled screech, and turned in unison to examine what could have invited that reaction.

* * *

><p>Harry sighed and padded over to them, ignoring Ginny's slight whimper as he scooped up the grass snake, who twined around his arms with an almost bored hiss.<p>

"It's just a grass snake, Ginny, and you're disturbing her." The snake hissed as if in affirmation, and Harry replied resignedly. The awkward silence that descended with his hissing lifted when Draco moved to stand beside him, lifting part of the five foot snake from him gingerly and resting her lower coils in his arms. The snake twisted a little to note him, then returned to her conversation with Harry, who nodded a silent thanks to the blonde, mostly absorbed in the interaction now. He slowly moved toward the water's edge, and Draco reluctantly followed, eying the muddy ground with disdain. Neve rose from her spot, smiling winningly at the others.

"I believe Harry and his friend have much to say to one another – shall we visit the beach? I'm sure Aunt Narcissa and Molly will come for us when lunch is ready." Draco smothered a snort at the idea of his mother actually fetching someone; that's what the house elves were for, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't until they'd disappeared into the trees that it really sank in that he was stuck here, alone, with the Boy Wonder himself.

_Damn it. _

* * *

><p>Harry was untouched by the irritation of his companion, and only barely noticed the others leaving. He was more concerned with the strange dialect the grass snake was speaking.<p>

Snakes suited to more aquatic environments did not sound the same as land bound snakes; normally, grass snakes used a dialect that was a sort of bridge between the two tongues. This snake, however, spoke an odd version of the aquatic dialect he'd never encountered before. To anyone else, it sounded like the same hissing as any other snake, but there was something subtly different in the inflections and a sort of gurgling undertone.

_~Your words sound...unnatural.~ _There were few words in a snake's vocabulary for strange, and little translated properly. She would understand, of course; she could read the principle of the thing in his words.

_~I am not of earth, voice friend. My home is in the darkness below.~ _Puzzling, since that's normally how snakes refer to being underground – unless she meant-

_~In the water?~_

_~Yes, voice friend. I am not as you imagine me to be.~ _Snakes that spoke in more riddles than owls, and he couldn't even understand owls, as Hedwig could attest.

"Potter, are you done?" He looked up, wincing a little as his neck muscles twisted in objection. The blonde was entertaining an expression that was dangerously close to a pout, but trying his hardest to resist it, much to Harry's amusement.

"I'm almost done; she was hinting that she's not a normal snake, and says she lives in the lake." Draco stared at him, then at the snake.

"...She's a grass snake, Potter."

"And she's the snake here, not you – who are you to say where she lives?" The blonde rolled his eyes and gently shifted the snake's lower coils into Harry's lap.

"Hurry up. I'm tired of spending precious time listening to you enhance a lisp." Though it was fascinating; at first he had been envious of the fabled ability, but now there was a simple pleasure at being able to hear it without expecting the snake being addressed to bite someone – Nagini could put a person off anything. The smaller teen finished his conversation and returned the snake to the grass, straightening with a wince before levering himself to his feet.

"Weird." Draco groaned.

"What _now_? If she told you about some otherwise undiscovered ruin or secret passage, you are expressly forbidden from seeking it out and entering some harebrained adventure that will leave you half dead!" Harry blinked and folded his arms across his chest, scowling.

"I'm never half dead!"

"First year."

"Fluke."

"Second year."

"I might give you that."

"Third year."

"That was Dumbledore's fault! He didn't tell me who Sirius was, and neither did Snape!"

"Don't blame Severus for your own inability to look for the truth without almost dying to werewolves in the process. Fourth year, the Tournament."

"Also not my fault – Crouch Jr. can be blamed for that."

"Fifth year."

"Your fault." The blonde stopped.

"_My _fault?" Harry sighed.

"Okay. Umbridge and Voldemort, as well as my own fault. I shouldn't have been so stupid."

"Took you that long to figure it out?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Draco continued, ticking off the final year with a bored expression.

"Sixth year wasn't so bad for you, was it? You really only almost killed me and saved us from an insane Dark wizard with a rotting brain." Harry froze, suddenly struggling to swallow comfortably, unable to look away from Draco's dead gaze; it twisted a blade in his stomach, and he realized he was on the verge of cackling hysterically at the irony, when Draco turned away and strode back to the lake.

"Have you ever heard of the drowning maidens?"

* * *

><p>AN: Well. This WAS supposed to be a oneshot, but like Depravia it objected. . The rating and genre is subject to change since my plot is a little hazy. Much love for you, readers; have a fabulous day.


	2. Dare You

**A/N-**

You know, I forgot the disclaimer in chapter 1. Whoops.

Fixed that; only note here is I switch between Malfoy and Draco depending on if it's Harry's POV, Ron's POV, or narrator's POV. That's it. Read on, enjoy.

* * *

><p>Ron wasn't entirely sure why he'd turned back – Harry and Malfoy had been getting along relatively well since they'd all arrived, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going terribly wrong, or would soon enter such a state. The girls hadn't minded his departure – though Neve had assured him they were probably fine and he should stop worrying. Hermione, on the other hand, encouraged him to listen to his instincts – after all, their best friend <em>was <em>Harry Potter, and while luck seemed to smile on him, he nevertheless ended up in hellish situations more often than not.

He had, by the time he arrived in the clearing, worked through every conceivable situation that could possibly occur (disregarding anything that had already happened, i.e. giant three headed dogs, disgusting freakishly large arachnids, and psychotic Dark Lords. Oh, and Umbridge,) and came to the conclusion that he really had nothing to worry about, yet somehow the sight of Malfoy and Harry sitting at the edge of the water, talking quietly, scared him all the more than any of the other scenarios.

"Hey, guys – where's Harry's friend?" Harry started and shot to his feet, only barely recognizing Ron's voice and therefore preventing a rather gruesome death.

"Ah – she's gone. We're, um-"

"I was telling Potter the history of our little lake here." Ron paused, looking over them at the still waters. The lake was eerie, always seeming to be in shadow despite the fact that the bulk of the sunlight fell on it, and the water never moved if nothing fell into it – and as a general rule, nothing fell into it. To further its oddity, there didn't seem to be fish in it; despite the water being absolutely clear, you couldn't see the bottom – it was black as pitch, presumably without that consistency.

"What about it? Sure, it's creepy and doesn't adhere to the laws of nature or magic, but neither does Harry, so I don't see why it matters."

"Hey!" Malfoy snorted and rose to his feet, brushing a few clinging bits of grass away.

"They used to call this Narcissus's Looking Glass – in reference to the many deaths apparently by falling in and drowning. A few of the older witches who live in the village nearby will attest to it, but they say there's another reason for the deaths – women similar to nymphs." Harry blew out an irritated sigh.

"So?"

"So, Potter, given your apparent inability to die, I wondered if you wouldn't want to swim to the other side." Ron felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and opened his mouth to warn his friend off the dare (veiled though it may have been), but Harry's inability to stomach anything his rival said that could be seen as a dare prevailed and he stalked to the edge of the water.

"It doesn't look that dangerous – it's obviously just an urban legend, Malfoy." Because a lake you couldn't see the bottom of that seemed to be otherwise clear yet uninhabited didn't seem dangerous. Golden Potter logic at its best. Ron could see that at this point Harry had made up his mind and was entirely prepared to swim the relatively small distance if only to prove Malfoy – who obviously had _something _on his mind besides the dare – wrong. With a resigned sigh, he sat with a thump in the grass and waved Harry towards the water.

"I'll stay up here to go for help – just in case." Harry peeled his shirt off, rolling his eyes.

"Please, Ron – it's not going to be necessary."

"It's you."

"Would you all shut up about it!" Malfoy began to sit as well when Harry grabbed the edge of his shirt and yanked it up, startling a rather amusing yelp out of the blonde.

"What the hell, Potter-"

"You're coming in with me, blondie. This was your idea," snapped the brunette, managing to pull the shirt off the blonde with relatively little difficulty (and some muttering about him being too damned tall). Ron looked on with resigned amusement, twirling his wand absently, the prickling sensation picking up and intensifying.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?" he asked, knowing the answer but hoping to put it off anyway.

"Yeah, Ron, I'm sure. We'll be across the lake before you know it."

* * *

><p>Normally Draco would have put more effort into resisting the pushy Golden Boy's demands, but he was actually curious about the validity of the legend – and if there was a chance to exact some form of revenge on the Gryffindor while losing credibility, oh well. Ronald was there, so the chances of someone actually getting hurt were slim – even if he doubted his general intelligence, he knew the redhead to be loyal and mostly responsible; he'd get help if needed. He turned to see Potter wading into the water and followed, briefly lamenting the loss of yet another expensive article of clothing – something that never happened when Potter <em>wasn't <em>around.

The swim turned into a race at some point; the eerie quiet was only broken by their breathing and the sound of the water as they cut through it. The temperature was dropping – strangely, as the sun was at its highest point in the sky yet. They both had reached the near center of the lake when Potter faltered. Instead of capitalizing on the stumble, Draco slowed, feeling a strange, horrific sensation slide through him as Potter flailed, then dropping, disappearing under the water – and didn't come back up. The full breath before it really sank in was all too long, and Draco found himself disregarding his considerable self preservation instinct and diving after him.

The water was still unbearably clear, and therefore the image before him was practically suspended in glass; Potter was being dragged down by a dark form, somewhat fuzzy around the edges in defiance to the sharpness of the rest of the sight. And it moved _fast_. Draco was moving as quickly as he could, and barely staying with them, when shadows past before his eyes and sharp pain unfurled behind his eyes and he was engulfed in darkness.

* * *

><p>It was nothing so exciting from shore, but Ron knew from the moment that Malfoy froze and then dove after Harry that something was terribly wrong. His own instincts were screaming at him to go after them, but he found himself frozen, debating whether or not he could waste precious time getting help. He couldn't see either wizard anymore and ignored the small thought that question what would happen if the others didn't figure out what happened; he simply waded in and then dove, following the two dark pairs disappearing with horrific speed into the shadows below.<p>

It wasn't until another appeared that it occurred to him that he'd left his wand on land.

* * *

><p>Hermione tapped her foot rapidly, staring at the woods with tangible frustration.<p>

"Hermione, you said they were by the lake?" She looked over her shoulder at Percy, barely concealing her grimace. He'd been back and forth since they'd arrived, and while he rarely stayed around long enough to cause trouble, they nevertheless didn't get along.

"Yes; they should be back by now. If Harry's had anything to say about snakes, it's that they don't talk a lot – he shouldn't still be out there."

"Maybe he got into another fight with Malfoy."

"Wouldn't surprise me." She ignored the twins, looking to Ginny, Pansy, and Neve.

"We should go check." She barely swallowed a yelp when a large furry shape barreled out of the manor and bounced past them towards the woods. Ginny coughed as Pansy made a face.

"It would appear Black is accompanying us," murmured Neve.

"Let us follow."

* * *

><p>They came into the clearing at the exact moment the snake did, and only Sirius's quick thinking as he yanked them back into the trees kept them from alerting her. Gray mists that seemed to hang in the air engulfed her and bulged out, clearing to reveal a tall, cloaked woman. Hermione muffled a particularly vile oath when she saw what the woman had picked up and was examining.<p>

"One of them left their wand! Why can't we leave them alone without something like _this _happening!" Sirius mimed quiet and she did as told, eyes never leaving the tall woman. She examined the wand for a moment longer before kneeling at the water's edge and trailing the wand's tip through the water in a circle, counterclockwise, four times. The air turned gray, edged with blue, and frost left the wood, creeping across the surface of the lake, accelerating until it was completely frozen beneath a layer of black ice. The woman straightened, tossing the wand to the lake; it jammed itself into the center of the ice, standing straight up, like some sort of child's version of the sword in stone. The ice barely cracked, and the woman, apparently satisfied, strode forward. They all watched her glide across the ice, then pause, before sinking beneath the solid surface, as if she was no more real than a mirage in a desert. The silence hung like a living thing, before Sirius broke it with a tired sigh.

"We need to contact Dumbledore."

* * *

><p>Albus was not, as a general rule, pleased to hear Harry Potter had found yet another harebrained scheme to tie himself to. He was even less pleased when it involved other species, for while it showed some affinity and a chance for alliances, it also meant more difficulties than necessary.<p>

"You are sure she sank into the ice?" Sirius growled a little – he'd repeated it about five times now; _yes, _he was sure!

"Albus, Black was abundantly clear, and so too were the students. We are focusing on trivialities." And there was Severus, ever helpful and somehow not even insulting! Sirius looked over at the dour Potions Master, who was, in a flashback to their school days, pouring over a thick tome bound in blue leather, embossed with an image of a skull surrounded by waves. Albus scowled, his jovial twinkle painfully absent in his pale eyes.

"Severus, I must be absolutely sure. If they saw what I think they did, the boys could be in more danger than we previously assumed." Remus closed one book and flipped open another, not looking up as he asked, "Are we certain she wasn't simply an Animagus? Sure there are ways to appear to disappear into a solid surface without actually doing so." Now he looked up, thoughtful.

"Could a ghost retain their Animagus abilities? If so, there is another possibility." The door creaked open, and Lucius entered, face grim.

"One of the villagers brought his mother, thinking she could assist us. I am uncertain as to how much help she will be, but she knows this place better than any other – I believed she could be at least minimally helpful." Albus nodded tightly and Narcissa appeared, leading the ancient crone forward. The small woman waved her off, summoning a chair with a creaky flick of the wrist and sitting gingerly, cloudy brown eyes focused on the dead fireplace. The five men faced her, waiting for her to speak. She tapped her wand against the table, eyes narrowing.

"The clouded gaze of a demon has fallen on your boys, Dumbledore. They are beneath the waves – in the realm of the Glass Queen. False winter will fall on this place, and you will not be able to leave. You saw the Queen herself – that she has chosen to take your boys is a harbinger of doom." While Albus's expression remained grim, the four younger men all found themselves trying to smother indecent humour; no, this woman was no Trelawny, but one could only spew so much cryptic information and not incite laughter. Eventually they prevailed over the laughter and returned their attention to the seriousness of the matter.

"Is there a way to retrieve them?" Cataracts-ridden lenses focused on Remus, and she shook her head.

"The Queen will release them when she sees fit. It is up to your youth to unravel her riddle if they want to leave. You had better pray, wolf – you understand curses, but the curse of the Glass Queen is never so simple as yours." He stiffened, and they all shared a look between them, thoughts turning leaden, until Narcissa, previously silent, cleared her throat.

"Let the children help – they have done so much before now; we would be foolish to overlook them." The emaciated woman cackled, sunken eyes seemed to retreat further, making her seem even more like some sort of freshly unearthed corpse. She rose slowly, waving Narcissa off again as she limped to the door.

"You do that, dearies – see if you can't save our only hope before the summer ends, but remember; one does not stay in the land of Fae without emerging greatly changed. You may find your hope lost even if you do free him from the ice."

* * *

><p>The girls had gathered in Neve's room to discuss the events – or more accurately, debate their role in the rescue attempt that was undeniably being planned.<p>

Ginny and Hermione, friends of Harry's for years and well acquainted with the measures they generally needed to use to assist him, wanted to find a way to break the ice. Pansy, better acquainted than they were with curse magic, argued that such a rescue attempt could prove fatal. Neve, the only one who truly understood the old ways, offered a quiet observation.

"In the past, you couldn't have simply dove headlong into any challenge offered to you; this, too, must be met with prudence and careful planning. The twins graciously provided us the means to gain information without pestering the adults; we know what we are up against, and solid research should lead us to the answer. Perhaps we could even speak with the villagers." Hermione stared at her, feeling a blush rise; she'd forgotten her usual stance in the heat of the moment, only to have the strangely stoic blonde remind her with quiet, yet oddly sharp words. Ginny huffed and crossed her arms.

"Fine. We'll do research, but how do we know they're okay?" Pansy snorted.

"I cannot speak for Ronald, but I do know Draco and Harry – they might not like it, but they'll do fine." Hermione nodded, and Ginny sighed, acquiescing to her point.

The House rivalry, combined with their general dislike of each other, would disappear under the right duress.

* * *

><p>Waking up was something Harry had learned to dread; too often it resulted in being mothered mercilessly by Pomfrey, or realizing he was still at the Dursleys', or that he had Potions and was late (something that he was certain was some sort of cosmic joke at his expense). Today, however, he couldn't remember falling asleep in the first place, and why would have fallen asleep with <em>Malfoy<em> – and why was Malfoy soaking wet? The dawning realization that he was also wet sunk in, and he sat up stiffly, examining his surroundings.

Ron was unconscious on the other side of a deep basin in the stone – at least, he thought it was stone – floor they were lying on. The entire chamber seemed to be surrounded by frosted glass, and was a circle with rooms surrounding the edge. Malfoy was waking up, coughing a little as his body attempted to expel the copious amounts of water it remembered him downing. Harry noted with some smugness that his normally immaculate hair was thoroughly mussed (_finally_), but otherwise he maintained a good amount of dignity.

"What – Potter, where are your hideous glasses? And where are we?" Harry blinked, reaching up to touch his face and realizing that he was indeed without his glasses – but he could see clearly.

"We replaced the lenses of which I imagine you speak. They would not have lasted at these depths, but you can see, no?" They both sat up in unison, eyes scanning the area for the speaker, hands groping for wands they couldn't locate.

"Your weapons are gone; the Queen ordered them placed in the vaults. You will not need them." The speaker cleared his throat, bringing their attention up to a walkway above them, where he leaned on a ornate railing, slender fingers tapping a lazy beat on it.

While it was apparent that he was far from human, neither teen couldn't figure out what, exactly, he _was_; his pale skin seemed to be faintly lavender, with paler stripes forming a sort of spiky mask around his features and curling around his fingers. His long nails were black and seemed not to be painted; when he spoke, it could be seen that his teeth, pointed and longer than their's, were the same colour. Large yellow eyes stared down at them, slightly lidded, with thick, dark lashes that, clumped together, seemed to actually be spines. He vaulted over the railing, floating down lazily and landing lightly, straightening. Closer, they both could see that the three ridges peeking through the spines that seemed to be their approximation of hair where part of his skull, covered in the same slightly glistening lavender flesh. His "hair" was pulled back, held there by a rigid clasp that looked like mother of pearl, revealing that where they would normally see ears, he instead had delicate frills, like a fish fins edged in black.

"You are quite wet – perhaps we were overly hasty, forgetting you are merely human. The bright haired one fared better than either of you, but that is neither here nor there. A shell's thoughts, not a swimmer's." They both stared, vaguely noting that Ron was waking up and probably wouldn't react well to their host but unable to dredge up the energy to care. Finally Malfoy, in as mild a tone as he could manage, asked, "Where are we?" The slim creature waved his hand negligently, the other hand toying with his hair.

"This is the palace of the Glass Queen, lady of these depths. She would entertain your presence as soon as you are ready. You have two shifts."

They eventually learned that shifts – a shortening of the term "sun shifts"– meant hours. In those two hours, they woke Ron entirely, warning him of their captors, when six more entered, three males and three females. They were almost entirely humanoid, save for the fins, teeth, and hair; Draco eventually came to the conclusion that they were related to merpeople, though he didn't ask. The three males went about finding clothing for them and helping them with the more foreign items, before leaving the girls to make sure they were absolutely presentable. The first male, who eventually introduced himself as Barun, reappeared at this point, making small talk that made almost no sense to the three wizards, before leading them out of the chamber.

"You will not speak unless invited to; remain kneeling until chairs are brought, do not meet the Queen's eyes, and do not attempt to move closer to her than the chairs already are, on pain of death. She may very well allow you to break any one of these rules, but if you misread her invitations at any point, the blame will rest on you and you will be punishable by our law." He smiled cheerily at them, ignoring their collective wince at his obsidian bright teeth as they drew to a halt in front of two enormous white doors, covered in intricate reliefs detailing – what, they didn't know.

"After you, guests."

* * *

><p>AN: EHEHEHEHEHEH! -cough- I mean, fun, non? I wasn't sure what to call the species in question, so they're going to be cousins of merpeople; if I refer to any of them as mermen, or mermaids, that's why. Barun (as in the name) could be a placeholder; I'll inform you beforehand if it changes. Review, lovely people! :D


	3. Glass Queen

**A/N-**

I FIGURED OUT WHY THE TITLE'S DEPTHLESS! But I'll let you guess - because I'm mean like that. :) -snirk- Review, fantastic people!

* * *

><p>The throne room consisted of five pillars that formed a star; nestled in one of these pillars was the throne, seeming to literally grow from the shimmering stone. It formed a lotus blooming from the stone, tilted forward to form an actual seat. Each petal was different pastel colour, shimmering beneath the glowing orbs encircling the top of each pillar. The court sat on low couches forming a half circle unfurling from the lotus, facing into the circle where the three wizards were led and ordered to remain. Harry barely smothered an irritated sigh and began to kneel, pulling Malfoy down with him when he realized the pureblood was going to be stubborn. Ron knelt on the blonde's other side, eyes locked on the floor. High, bell tone laughter sounded above them, and Harry started visibly, lifting his eyes, forgetting Barun's orders earlier.<p>

"Hello again, voice friend!" It was entirely bizarre to hear a snake's voice coming from a humanoid – especially one like her. Like the rest of the pseudo-merpeople, her ears were actually frilly fins, though instead of pale stripes, like Barun, her markings were spirals that terminated into starbursts at the center. Her skin was a shade of blue dark enough to be mistaken for black; pale blue eyes close to Malfoy's silver sparkled down at them. The colour even overtook her pupils, giving her the appearance of blindness. The teeth and nails of obsidian were replaced with mother of pearl – raised ridges graced each cheekbone and eyebrow, while pale spines that passed for hair were twisted into an elaborate hairstyle that consisted of two heavy loops framing the face, a thousand tiny braids ending in shells falling over her shoulders, and two braids forming a crown that arched up into a topknot. Her three skull ridges were more prominent and merged together to fall to the center of her forehead, where an oblong pearl had been placed. Giggling, she rose, sheer robes billowing a little as she glided forward, their scalloped edges fluttering becomingly around her lithe body.

"Please, rise, rise! It is a pleasure to see you all again!" She giggled again and flung her arms around Harry, ignoring Ron's instinctive movement to stop her. Harry jumped a little when he felt something brush his arms and back; eyes flitting down, he realized the mermaid had larger fins on her elbows, sheerer than those on her head, though just as pale – silvery, as it were.

"...Hi." She released him and caught his hands in hers, beaming.

"You have come at a fortunate time! Our princes have finally awakened; I think you will find them very familiar!" Her giggle took on a more sinister tone, though Harry was relatively certain he'd imagined it.

"Oh, but wave lords! You must be quite exhausted. I will leave you to retire to your apartment! I would not want you to drift away when the ceremony begins!" She let go of his hands and clapped once, sharply; the sound seemed to reverberate through the room, and suddenly they were surrounded by large crustaceans. Each one was about the size of a Great Dane, with another two feet added by their thick, wavering eye stalks. They were all a mottled mixture of gray and brown, their pebbled skin the same texture as old cat vomit. Enormous claws clicked furtively as their tiny yellow eyes, sunken into each stalk, swiveled desperately in search of prey. However, they were not completely without good sight; much to Ron's alternating horror and disgust, each crab had a cluster of bulging yellow eyes on the front of their bodies, between their eye stalks, that stared out with crazed intensity at the three wizards.

"These are my pets – you know them as tarantula crabs. They are very sweet, when well fed." She smiled brightly, stroking the top of the biggest one's head.

"Of course, the festivities must be a surprise, so they will guard you! We will be opening the palace to creatures not as well intentioned as we, so this is for your own protection." She beamed and waved them off, turning to glide towards a small gate to the left of the throne. Barun, seeming to materialize from thin air, led them back to the circular room they'd come from, identifying it as the apartment the Glass Queen (as he later identified _her_) had spoken of. The tarantula crabs surrounded the perimeter, one for every fifteen feet and Barun, unlike before, remained with them, watching them settle slowly into the low clam shell chairs.

"You have truly come at a great time. Our princes have been dormant since many ages past. A great time..." The sycophantic repetition was more alarming than his dreamy grin, revealing an unfortunate number of gleaming jet teeth. Harry inched closer to Draco and Ron, returning the smile, albeit a weak one.

"I'm sure we will be honoured." Barun sighed and stretched.

"I should leave you to rest; the awakening will come with sunset. Please, do not hesitate to indulge in our meager offerings." He waved a little as he disappeared through one of the semi-opaque crystal doors, leaving the three teens to languish in their shimmering prison.

"Well..." Draco groaned aloud at Harry's pathetic attempt at starting conversation and immediately rose, beginning to pace. Ron crossed his arms, glaring at the blonde.

"This is your fault. You knew something was in the lake."

"It was a myth-"

"So you thought." Draco threw up his hands and whirled to face them.

"Okay, yes, it's my fault we're down here, but let's focus on getting _out, _shall we?" Both Gryffindors looked to one another, shrugged, and nodded. Draco collapsed back into the low seat.

"I don't know much about the myth – hell, the witches were determined to be vague. They all said the same basic thing; foolish youth gets pissy with parents, runs to the lake, leans over, sees something, leans closer, gets dragged under. Every now in then, presumably for variety, the youth would go swimming to clear their head." Ron sighed and plucked the edge of the strange robe he'd been given.

"They always died though, right? We're not dead." Harry hummed a little in his throat, slumping into the clam.

"Maybe they're going to kill us while we're down here." Draco grimaced at the bland declaration and snapped, "Why would they kill us now?" Harry sat up and glared.

"Why not? They've gone on and on about their princes, but what does that have to do with _us_?" he inquired sharply, irritated. Ron looked between the two and shook his head.

"Do either of you have your wand?" They both stopped and look to him in confusion, before horrified understanding dawned in Harry's eyes.

"Aw, Ron – you didn't leave it up _there_, did you?" The redhead's answering look told him everything he need to know, and he slumped back into the chair.

"Fresh hell."

* * *

><p>Hermione watched the three men argue over the pages of her book, then let her eyes flick to where Sirius was staring at the ice, his expression a mixture of raw pain and determination that was steadily morphing into determination. Neve sat on the bank next to him, similarly monitoring his emotions. Ginny and Pansy flanked Hermione, both with books of their own, though Ginny's was currently being used as a stand for her meager notes.<p>

"Glass Queen...this is so frustrating! As far as all of these," she waved at the books surrounding them, "Are concerned, there _is _no way to get them out, not before she kills them!" Pansy winced and Hermione snapped her book shut.

"Ginny! We'll get them out! And don't say things like that, you know they're probably trying to get out right now!" Ginny's eyes sparkled with tears, and the other Gryffindor immediately wished she hadn't been so sharp. She put the book down and gently hugged the younger witch.

"I'm sorry, Gin – I know, it's hard, but we've overcome worse odds, haven't we?" Pansy wished she could say something, but she couldn't think of anything prudent. With a sigh, she merely moved closer and placed a hesitant hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"They're smart, Ginny – and they're determined. They'll be fine." The words rang hollow in her ears, and she flinched a little. Neve joined them, kneeling next to them and resting a calming hand on Ginny's other shoulder. They stayed in that position for several minutes, when Sirius suddenly swore and jumped back from the ice's edge, startling everyone.

"What the hell, Black-"

"Remus, something is happening down there!" They all rose and surrounded the Animagus, peering into the black ice. Strangely, bits of the ice were turning transparent, and images were rising to the surface – hazy and otherwise incomprehensible, but the words were clear.

"Ron, how could you have left your _wand_?"

"Loathe though I am to do so, I agree with Potter, Weasley. What kind of idiot who practically lives with Potter leaves his wand behind?" Sirius muffled a laugh even as relief coursed through him; they were alive, and relatively well. Hermione pursed her lips, even as Ginny muttered, "Of _course _it was Ron..." Neve stared at the shimmering surface as it began to go black again, then hissed in surprise.

"That! That is why she used the wand!" They all turned to face her, expressions ranging from skeptical to bemused. She pressed her hands to her mouth, then dropped them, seeming at a loss for what to do.

"She's bound them with their magic – they cannot leave because she used Ron's wand to keep the enchantment in place. But _he _can leave because he doesn't have his wand with him." Now she looked lost.

"But...there is no way for us to contact them – the Glass Queen has undoubtedly placed boundaries that prevent them from using magic and receiving magical message." Hermione huffed.

"There's only one way to find out," she declared, pulling her wand and focusing on the ice. They didn't have to hear her say it to know she was about to cast a Patronus – there was a certain stance that came with the spell, though one rarely realized it during the casting. The otter twisted itself into a thoroughly contorted position, then sank into the ice, shining through for a few metres before it disappeared entirely. She sat down hard after that, staring at the gleaming surface.

"Now we wait."

* * *

><p>The dark waters rose and twisted up the pillar of bone. Pale fingers, barely discernible from that unforgiving surface, splayed across it. Equally pale eyes locked onto the silver unfurling like a flower from the bone, forming a perfect circle. She stared at it, and when the image began to waver and morph, she slammed her fist into it with an enraged scream, her pale blood spraying across the pitted surface as the shards rained down, sinking into the floor and liquifying. She fell to her knees, gaunt fingers curled into claws against the pale floor. Dark teardrops stain her skin and night falls beneath the ice.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, super duper short, but Ron's escape is going to be sort of exciting, so I HAD to end it there. Also, I'm not sure Harry would have said fresh hell. Also, my cats are losing their minds. -sigh- See ya (or rather, hope to see your reviews!).


	4. Royal Awakening

**A/N-**

I couldn't figure out how to say she gave them their wands back (stupid things like this trip me up ALL THE TIME), so I'm just telling you beforehand; she gave them their wands back. Remember how she bound them? That's why she gave them back; who _cares _if they have their wands, they can't leave. However, she never expected the people on the surface to figure that out, so she assumed Ron wouldn't be an issue. Look where that gets her. XD

* * *

><p>Draco jerked awake when Scarhead shoved him out of the chair and landed squarely on top of him.<p>

"What – Potter, get _off _me!" The brunette clapped his hand over his mouth, panting.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" he hissed into his ear, removing his hand.

"Something's going on. Hermione sent a message to us – with her Patronus – _Ron can get out._" The Slytherin stared up at him, managing to forget that his arch rival was settled quite comfortably on top of him. The brunette's green eyes skittered across the room, lingering on the shadows of the tarantula crabs.

"We need to help him get out, but those crabs are in the way."

"And that requires you to _lie on me_?" Ron entered at that precise moment and stared at them for a moment before sighing.

"Harry, mate, I knew you were gay, but I thought you'd have better taste. 'Course, if it's just desperation I can forget I saw anything." The shorter Gryffindor scrambled off the blonde and whirled on his friend, gaping at him in horror.

"I – I am not gay! And with _Malfoy_?" Draco rose and brushed himself off, sneering.

"Denial isn't attractive, fairy boy." Harry whipped around to face him, and Ron silently mouthed 'whiplash' to Draco, who only barely managed to keep a straight face (after all, he could neither be caught laughing at a Weasley's joke nor be caught laughing at the tiny harpy about to unleash his wrath on him).

"Why you-" Draco covered his mouth with one hand, absently wondering how his lips managed to look chapped and yet be so soft. Snapping out of _that _outrageous thought process, he pulled his hand away.

"We need to help Ronald get back to the surface, yes? This way." He strode past the fuming Gryffindor and offered Ron the smallest smirk, knowing very well that the redhead was cackling in his head at Harry's displeasure. They returned to the main room and Draco located a bell pull he'd noticed earlier. Yanking it once, he allowed himself to sink into the I'm-a-Malfoy-and-you-are-little-more-than-dirt persona as one of the slender water dwellers appeared from behind the frosted door.

"This," he began, lifting one of the shell bowls full of fruits and the like, "will not do. I am in need of gillyweed." The woman stared at him, and he rolled his eyes at her apparent lack of understanding.

"The transition isn't working as well as we'd like, and my short companion in particular is feeling unwell. I require gillyweed, and for those fruits to be replaced with something a little more...fresh." He waved her off, sliding the bowl forward across the low table.

"See to it." The woman, now understanding, beamed at them with the mindless joy inherent to these creatures (or so it seemed), and picked up the bowl, disappearing out of the room. He turned to the two Gryffindors.

"I think I know how to get rid of the crabs. I need you to see if you can find something made of black coral, flecked with white, and two conch shells." Ron and Harry exchanged a glance, shrugged, and went about searching. Draco followed Harry, harrying (**Ha. Ha. Sorry.**) him as they went. Harry, feeling like if he was within ten feet of him he might strangle him, tried to keep his distance, but apparently the git had gotten the wrong idea earlier.

_Note to self, Harry; don't jump him again. _

"I agree, Harry, stop jumping me." He almost swallowed his tongue as the sound of the Slytherin's voice in his ear and whipped around, only to see the blonde emerging from one of the closet like areas, on the other side of the large room.

"W-What-" The blonde stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"What _now_, Potter?" He stared at him, heart racing. He _knew _he'd heard him – he'd felt his breath on his ear! But the blonde couldn't have moved that fast, not without him hearing him. Swallowing hard, he shook his head and continued searching, eventually finding one of the decorative conch shells Draco asked for.

"Hurry up, Potter. I need to do this fast." Ron located the coral and Draco found the other shell, and immediately dumped them into a bowl, pulverizing them with a quick spell, ignoring the strange nausea that rose with the spell. A few quick tosses and the powder was mixed together. He stashed it beneath the low chair and offered the newly returned woman a tight smile. She returned it (brightly, per usual) and left them with the bowl of strange fruits and gillyweed. Draco shoved that into Ron's hands.

"Swallow it when you get out. Potter, you go ahead of his and get rid of anyone who might stop him from the front; I'll coat a few of these," he hefted a heart shaped blue and yellow fruit that was about the size of an ostrich egg, covered in darker blue blotches, "and give them to the crabs. That should take care of them. I'll follow behind you after that. When you get out, don't bother trying to get us out immediately – whoever has us down here will probably tighten their security." He stared at the frosted glass.

"Granger's message was garbled, but it's clear that our magic binds us here – your wand is on the surface, as a lock, but because it's on the surface, you can leave. We'll try to find out why we're here, but...that spell earlier felt wrong. I don't know if we'll be able to contact you. If you find something out, don't hesitate to try to tell us." He looked around.

"There's no way to know what time it is, so we have to move now." Ron stood, looking around.

"Should I...I dunno, get a weapon or something?" Harry shook his head.

"Just run, Ron." Draco pulled the powder from under the chair and grabbed a few more of the fruits, rolling each one in the powder then passing it to Harry. He disappeared outside, rolling the fruits to each crab, running back and forth until they were gone.

"Done?" Draco nodded, and Harry pulled his wand.

"Let's go, then."

* * *

><p>They filed out, ignored by the oddly frantic crabs, who, after devouring the fruits, were scuttling about drunkenly, screeching shrilly and locking claws in a strange dance that tended to turn into some sort of duel. Harry broke into a run almost immediately, forcing the other two wizards to speed up as well. Almost as soon as they crossed the threshold, a guard appeared, and upon seeing the three wizards barreling toward him, fumbled with his horn and sounded a sharp alarm. Harry stunned him and kept running; guard after guard fell before him, and as soon as they began to swarm towards them from behind, they fell to Draco as well. The hall rose rapidly, the incline suddenly dropping off.<p>

"Shite!" Harry skidded to halt and turned to see Draco and Ron coming up next to him.

"There." Draco pointed to a darker area in the crystal wall.

"Go through there." Harry turned completely and moved to Draco's side as Ron stuffed the gillyweed into his mouth, gagging a little on it. Harry looked over his shoulder and gave him a lopsided smile.

"See ya." Draco waved without looking back.

"Get us the hell out of here." Ron nodded and jumped from the ramp and prayed he didn't impact on the wall.

* * *

><p>The water engulfed him, trying to overwhelm him, but the gillyweed kicked in painfully seconds after impacting with the water. He propelled himself forward, feeling himself cut through the water at shocking speeds. Something brushed his ankle, then yanked. He jerked to a halt and flailed, kicking backwards desperately. He twisted to see one of the mers holding onto his ankle, only to stiffen and float to the side. He saw Draco wave sarcastically before following Harry, flanked by the creatures, back down the ramp. Freed, he continued his swim to the surface, hitting the ice hard. Startled, he reeled back, then, after noting the spot he'd hit previously, slammed into it again.<p>

* * *

><p>Hermione jumped back with a yelp, stumbling back into Pansy's arms. The blonde steadied her, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as she let the other witch go. Severus and Remus sent twin jolts into the ice, and with a barely a second past, Ron shot out of the water, landing on the bank hard as the weak gillyweed he'd devoured wore off. Sirius knelt next to him, accepting a blanket from Neve and wrapping it around the shaking, hacking redhead.<p>

"What happened-"

"There are – merpeople – kinda-" He stopped to cough again, shaking his soaked hair out of his face. Ginny came trotting back into the grove with her parents and siblings, giving the others enough time to move before the clan descended on their youngest son, alternately scolding and making sure he was alright, or at least mostly alright. Sirius and Draco's parents hovered on the edges of the mass, anxious for information about their respective children. Eventually Sirius moved away, chewing his bottom lip as he moved to see what Severus was staring at. Much to his alarm and growing horror, the ice was creeping closed again; the ragged edges were coloured an amalgam of shades of blue, shifting sickeningly as the edges slowly moved together and eventually sealed. Severus stared at it furiously, then swallowed hard.

"He needs to rest before we ask him anything – but what have we left them in?"

* * *

><p>Draco sat on the low 'couch' of the cell and watched Harry pace.<p>

"Lupin said he made it," he offered, hoping to get him to sit down.

"I know." The pacing continued, and the blonde fidgeted.

"Damn it, would you sit _down, _Potter? He's fine, and we'll find out _our _fate soon enough!"

"Have you heard anything weird?" Startled by the abrupt change of subject, Draco sat mute, bemused.

"What exactly do you mean by weird?" Harry looked uncertain, eyes flicking around the cell, which was not exactly dissimilar from the apartment they'd been in earlier.

"I – um...heard something – earlier. Um...you." The blonde continued to stare.

"Me what?"

"I _heard _you! You were right behind me, except you were actually across the room from me, so you _couldn't _have been there, but you were, I heard you, I felt you-"

"Potter, I'm thinking this obsession isn't healthy-"

"Damn it, Malfoy! Something is going on here, and it's not my questionable sexuality!"

"...At least you admit that it's questionable." He rose and rested his hands on the shorter wizard's shoulders, trying to project calm onto the brunette.

"What's wrong with you? You're starting to scare me. Nothing is going on." He punctuated the last sentence by shaking him gently after each word. Harry stared up at him and sighed, pulling away and collapsing onto the couch, dropping his head into his hands.

"Whatever, Malfoy." The blonde sat next to him, feeling what little calm he'd had disintegrate. He began to fidget, and almost seconds later found himself on his feet, pacing.

_Damn Potter. _

* * *

><p>Eventually Barun, in his usual unexpected way, materialized outside the door and invited them to follow him to the queen's private quarters. Harry had to almost hop to keep up with the two much taller males, muttering the entire time about it, ignoring Draco's comments on him sounding like a frustrated kitten (while Barun just smiled beatifically.).<p>

The queen was lounging on a low chaise made of woven reeds, shells woven into the form for support and ornamentation. Two enormous fountains flanked the chaise, and a miniature moat surrounded her, full of shimmering carp Draco knew for a fact were not native to England and wouldn't be found in a lake besides that. She trailed her fingers through the clear waters, watching the fish dart away, and then come back to twine around her fingers. A small smile sat firmly on her face, as if she had sewn it there, stiff and untouched by her true emotion.

"I admit displeasure with you, Draco, Harry. I had thought you might behave for some hours before the awakening. However, this makes arrangements much easier for us. The princes are quite pleased to meet you, you know." She looked up, her pale eyes seeming to glow in the dim light.

"My pets are very sick, boys. You shouldn't have poisoned them so efficiently. I'm sure your mentor, Severus Snape, would be pleased, Draco." Harry felt like his mind was about to melt; how did she know who they were, and how did she know _Snape_? Draco was growing progressively paler, but his mask never wavered. The queen sighed and rose, pale robes flaring away from her body like butterfly wings.

"I am known as the Glass Queen – perhaps the name reflects some harshness, but I am not without some compassion. I understand that we snatched you from above quite suddenly. Only the great sea lords know why you waited for so long." She pressed her hands to her heart, smile widening ever so slightly.

"I understand, boys – this is a strange place for land dwellers, but you may find it less alien in time." She reached out and trailed her fingers down Harry's face, obviously not expecting a reaction; Draco only barely caught his wrist in time to prevent him from hexing her into as many tiny pieces as he could.

Harry fought to slow his heart rate down; the innocent (well, relatively innocent) gesture was entirely too much like something Voldemort would have done. He'd noticed as the years wore on, what he could endure that reminded him of the Dark wizard had slowly waned; the slightest thing could provoke violence from him if it reminded him of any of their interactions, and it was horrifying how much he'd devolved in that aspect. The Glass Queen's hand remained suspended in midair as she slowly tilted her head to the side, eyes questioning, smile unwavering.

"Poor, poor Harry Potter...without mother or father, and hunted, always hunted..." Her eyes glowed all the brighter, and Draco curled his fingers tighter around Harry's thin wrist, trying his hardest not to be alarmed by the woman's strange, nonlinear behaviour. The glow dimmed, and she allowed her hand to drop, turning away from them.

"Soon, pretty ones, the princes will awaken. Take them to the Chamber, Barun." The merman bowed and began to lead them from the room. Harry yanked his hand from Draco's and stalked after him, feeling fury and dread rising and melding in his heart. Anything called the Chamber, capital C, warranted worry (Chamber of Secrets? Psychotic Dark Lord's soul, or at least a piece of it? _Basilisk_?). Anything down _here_ with said trait warranted more than a mere trace of worry. Draco caught up relatively quickly, but he was nevertheless confused.

"What the hell was that, Potter? I've said worse to you and you've never batted an eyelash. Hells, I've _done _worse!" The brunette just shook his head and continued his brisk walk after Barun, who glided along as if nothing could affect him. Frustration boiled between the two wizards, and as their emotions struggled to have their head, rational thought began to suffer.

"Damn it, Potter, stop ignoring me-"

"What the hell if your _problem_, Malfoy? Shut up and walk!" Barun paused and turned a little into time to see the short brunette pinned to the wall by the blonde. He flicked his tail absently, letting it morph back into legs, and then back into a tail, snapping with all the emotion of a cat's. The interaction was fascinating, and hinted at something he had not seen in them before; a shark grin morphed his features into an ugly, terrifying mask that quickly fell away, replaced again by the dreamy smile.

"Boys, boys – you needn't fight on such a day. Please, relax." Draco released the brunette and stalked past the merman, hissing oaths under his breath, while Harry brushed himself off and followed with similar rage. Barun shrugged, smile widening painfully, and swam after them, humming a little in his throat.

* * *

><p>The Chamber of Awakening was unlike any of the other rooms in the complex. Where they were all in crystal, frosted and clear, the Chamber was all black – gleaming like the obsidian teeth of the majority of the merpeople. An insignia was inlaid in mother of pearl on the single door; an oval bisected by a line of black, one half entirely black save for a teardrop of mother of pearl, and vice versa. The actual structure was like a dark solarium; the opaque ceiling bulged slightly, as if it had been begun as a flat surface and then at the last minute someone had tried to transform it into a dome. As they approached, Barun glided past them and laid his hands on the insignia, his hum morphing into a song. Harry was reminded sharply of the merpeople during the TriWizard Tournament. The song rose, climbing to its climax, then dropped and ended abruptly with a low, mournful hum. The insignia glowed, and the door pulled in half, revealing two entrances, one blazing with light and the other entirely dark. The man turned to them, hands clasped.<p>

"Choose an entrance – you may not accompany one another." To the two wizards, the point was moot; Harry entered the bright entrance and Draco the dark, but as the doors, they both experienced the same shiver down their spines.

* * *

><p>Harry stayed near the door at first, but almost immediately found himself drifting forward, examining his new surroundings.<p>

The walls seemed to be carved out of one enormous piece of shell; the mother of pearl gleamed softly beneath the single light that unfurled like a miniature sun at the center of the ceiling. The room was in the form of a half circle, telling Harry that Draco was probably just on the other side of the right-most wall; that wall seemed, at first glance, to be a waterfall. Water cascaded down it, splashing happily into the ground. He realized the entire floor was covered in a small amount of standing water, but it wasn't stagnant – it actually smelled a little sweet here, with a touch of a darker scent – chocolate.

_Honey and chocolate_. He inhaled and smiled a little, until his mind gently (read: in Hermione's shrillest tones,) reminded him why he was here. He looked around again, scanning the relatively small space. A low, rectangular table, two shell chairs, what looked like a bed – but he was the only one here, it seemed.

"Hello?" In a moment of stomach churning deja vu, warm breath eased past his ear as someone he would have sworn couldn't possibly be in the room with him chuckled right behind him.

"Hello, Harry."

* * *

><p>AN: -squeals/cackles, hacks, chokes, cackles some more- Ahem. That was mean of me, sorry, but I couldn't resist. I was all, dude, this isn't OoT, stop making him sound like Link in the Water Temple!, but alas, it didn't work. I love the Chamber. Who do you think the mystery (yeah, right) prince is? (Actually, hotflower901, you were pretty close. Not QUITE right, but pretty close.) Next chappie, Ron, reunited with Hermione, takes up his old role of trying to save Harry from himself, and we get to meet the princes!


	5. Shattered Surface

**A/N-**

I think I like the Dark half better – which means...something. XD I won't spoil it. -shoos readers forward-

Oh, this chapter is trying to push us into M territory. I'm not sure it is yet, but I may change it to M if it keeps up (or if that particular prince doesn't behave. XD).

(After a few hours of writing) It'll be M. -stares in slight horror- Also – beautiful, beautiful irony. I'm so proud. -tears up- -cough- Okay, SHUTTING UP!

* * *

><p>The right side of the Chamber of Awakening was as dark as Draco had initially thought; the room seemed to have been carved out of a half circle of obsidian, and then the walls inlaid with tiny, shimmering hieroglyphs that covered the entire surface yet lent almost no light to the shadowed room. The only light was a rotating dome at the center of the ceiling, letting off what could be described as false moonlight. Draco was wary of moving away from the door, but inched forward anyway, staying with his back to the wall. A pair of reed chaises, painted or dyed black save for the shimmering shells woven into them, formed a loose V, in the crook of which a low, square table sat, a shimmering black bowl of gleaming white stones serving as a simple, elegant centerpiece. The left-most wall was a fountain; a waterfall flowed from the ceiling to the floor, where the water was contained to a covered 'river' that encircled the room, filled with more of the ornamental fish he'd seen in the queen's chambers. The room smelled faintly of tea tree and...<p>

_Ginger. _He inhaled a little again, fascinated by the scents that should have probably clashed but coexisted rather well. Almost seconds after he was certain he'd catalogued everything in the room, a low laugh sounded from the corner opposite of the one where the table and chaises sat. Draco froze, eyes narrowing. The laugh sounded familiar, but at the same time... Throwing his Slytherin tendency for self-preservation to the wind (and ignoring the inner voice in his head that shrieked like Pansy to stay the bloody fuck back,) he stepped forward, sliding his wand free of its holster.

"Hello, Draco." He almost swallowed his tongue when arms slid around his waist and warm lips brushed across the nape of his neck. His entire body seemed paralyzed as his assailant easily slid his wand from his hand and tossed it to the side, forcing him to turn and face him.

The voice was _his_...but _he _wasn't that tall! He barely swallowed a wholly undignified yelp as he was pushed onto the bed in the far corner and the hieroglyphs blazed, filling the room with shimmering light that, while not truly dispelling the dark, gave him a clear view of who was in the room with him.

* * *

><p>Harry stared, dumbstruck, and finally collapsed into one of the shell chairs, debating if he should just hex the...man...and try to flee, or sit this one out and see what happened.<p>

It was Draco Malfoy – if Draco Malfoy were about three years older and was one of the merpeople they'd encountered among the Glass Queen's ranks. The pale, thin spines flowed around his shoulders in a fashion utterly strange in a material that he was certain wasn't anywhere as flexible as hair. Like the Queen, his nails and teeth were similar to mother of pearl; pale skin had an almost silver shimmer to it, and smoky gray tendrils, like smoke, formed his markings. The prince sat beside him, leaning forward a little, smile soft and inviting. The frills, both ear and elbow, were the same smoky gray; his eyes, like the human Malfoy's, were silver, but had no pupil – or rather, his eyes were similar to the Queen's, appearing blind, yet Harry was certain he could see perfectly well. However, unlike the queen, the ridges on his cheekbones, eyebrows, and the top of his skull all were inked at the top; deep green snakes twisted together in a never-ending chain across his skin.

* * *

><p>The Potter doppelganger seemed to find his utter shock amusing, if the warm laugh was anything to go by. Obsidian nails, teeth, and short, spiky hair stood out against pale gold skin, while even paler gold forming lightning bolts ran down the sides of his face and onto his hands. Green eyes the colour one might associate with venom, or Slytherin, or the Killing Curse blazed with uncharacteristically mocking humour.<p>

"Relax Draco." Pale gold frills, edged with darker gold, and blood red tattoos that seemed to be flames that bled down each ridge.

* * *

><p>"There's nothing to be afraid of," purred the pale prince, one hand closing around his wrist as the other coolly disarmed him. He yelped a little when he was suddenly pulled forward and the silvery merman nuzzled him gently, warm breath coasting over his flushed skin.<p>

"Relax..." Harry swallowed and began to panic.

* * *

><p>Draco glared at the prince, pressing himself against the wall and wondering where the hell the <em>real <em>Potter was and why he wasn't saving him like he was supposed to be.

"Who on the gods' green earth _are _you?" The prince stretched, catlike, and settled himself over Draco, ignoring the blonde's shrill objections.

"I am one of the princes of the Crystal Depths – that is, of this lake." He trailed his fingers through Draco's hair and down his jaw, down his throat, lingering over his heart, tapping the spot in time with his rapid heartbeat.

"Calm down, Draco – you're safe." Perhaps it never occurred to the creature that most people did not associate _safe_ with razor-like obsidian teeth. The prince continued his fingers' journey down the wizard's body, lingering again, tracing the scar from the infamous incident last year through the thin fabric. The wizard expected him to move on or get off, _not _lean down and trace the scar again with his tongue. He couldn't move for any reason, and this was entirely _wrong_ – but it _felt _fantastic. He bucked a little, shivering as long nails curled into his hips, and then the prince massaged the red skin with the pads of his fingers. He looked up, green eyes slitted, and it occurred to the wizard through the pleasure induced haze in his mind that he had cat's eyes.

"Are you," he murmured against his skin, still massaging Draco's hips, "relaxed yet?" The blonde nodded, staring blindly at the ceiling as logic struggled through the haze and reminded him that this was neither normal nor safe and that he _should _be trying to get his wand back and get out. He wasn't really listening.

* * *

><p>Harry managed to struggle to his feet and towards the waterfall, trying to distract himself from the weirdly playful, affectionate prince behind him.<p>

"Who are you?" The blonde twined around him, nuzzling him and occasionally nipping his ear, never enough to draw blood, though it always _seemed _like it would.

"Anyone you want me to be." Not really an answer one in Harry's position was looking for.

"What?" The blonde laughed, pulling him around to face him.

"You are responsible for my waking, dear – I will be anyone you want." The Gryffindor bit his lip, oblivious to the way the blonde's eyes slitted and glazed over at the action.

"Let go," he managed, pulling away from the prince again.

"Why – why do you look like Malfoy?" The prince threw his head back and laughed, the sound like a lower replica of the Queen's.

"Darling, what are you talking about?" He stared at the chuckling prince and backed away a little more.

"Why. Do. You. Look. Like. Malfoy? The other wizard who was with me!" The blonde caught Harry's hands and massaged his palms.

"Oh – it would seem you've been in the rest stage for too long." He cupped his face.

"Darling, there wasn't another wizard. Occasionally being in the rest stage between awakenings cause hallucinations. Where did you think you were all this time?" The pale creature pushed some of Harry's hair away from his face, looking genuinely puzzled. The brunette stared at him, dizziness overtaking him. Shaking, he pulled away again and stumbled to the bed, the prince following behind him. He collapsed onto the soft mattress, fingers curling into the unknown material, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. He didn't know why this was so terrifying; what had he said? He – something about a resting stage – the words began to blur in his mind, and tears pricked his eyes as panic swamped him. Gentle arms slipped around his waist, and he relaxed into those arms, shaking.

* * *

><p>Draco was far from pleased with his current position, but his body didn't seem to be getting the message. The prince chuckled as he squirmed, hissing insults and oaths of vengeance in rapid succession, occasionally in French, furthering his amusement.<p>

"You are incredibly touchy, lovely one," he murmured, sitting up and stretching.

"It suits you – but you should be wary." The blonde froze, staring up at him, feeling a shock run through him. The doppelganger leaned down again, brushing a kiss across the top of his ear, before whispering, "I am giving you a chance I should not – and would not normally. My counterpart is destroying your companion beside us, and our Queen prepares for her final move – one that will cost one of you your life." He rose fluidly and glided away, pausing beside the table and sliding his fingers through the shimmering stones.

"It's too late." Draco stared at him, struck mute by a strange agony in his chest. It rose, an unfurling flame that sought to devour him like an acidic wave. A soft voice whispered through his mind, a genderless, gentle tone that warned him of the danger about to impose itself on him.

_Be ready. _He clutched the wand the doppelganger prince had left beside him, sitting up slowly as the creature raised his hand, palm up, levitating three pebbles. They circled over his palm lazily, yet the ominous sensation engulfed him.

"Far too late."

_Now! _He felt the surge of energy and shot to his feet, stumbling to the left as the pebbles embedded themselves into the wall where his head had been seconds before.

"Hmm." He stared in horror as the creature turned, eyes glowing furiously as he morphed. His jaw distended, revealing obscenely long canines and further lengthened teeth that formed thin cones. Dark pupils disappeared amidst the verdant pools that glistened with some primal hunger. In harsh contrast with the changes rippling across his body, his bearing was lazy, disinterested. Skin turned an ugly, mottled brown, streaked with the original gold and a deathly gray. Hands became webbed, nostrils flared, and suddenly his skin split. Bones ripped free of his arms, replacing the fins that had graced his body like elegant accessories. Each blade tapered into a thin, sharp blade. A few spines had burst from his back, curling out like inverted ribs, all still dripping with pale blood and bits of muscle and other internal tissues. Green eyes darkened to something akin to black. Draco fought the urge to vomit and cast the first spell that shot through his mind.

"_Sectumsempra!_" Something in him gloried at the irony, but was quickly chased away by ever-growing horror as the creature's body, covered in rivulets, then rivers, of hideously pale blood, continued to approach. Heavy, hissing breaths alternated with ragged growls, and then he – it, now, as if the man it had once been had been obliterated with its transformation – shot forward, striking with hideous speed. Draco ducked and skidded on the slick floor, slamming into the door hard. His eyes dropped to the creature's feet; they were resting all their weight on the balls of their feet, and instead of nails, obsidian talons clicked across the black floor. A split second decision barely saved him; the pebbles scattered across the floor, and he again dodged away from the screeching creature, shooting several more seemingly use spells. He slipped on one of the pebbles and crashed into the floor, gasping in pain as the pebbles attempted to embed themselves into his back. The creature voiced another hideous screech, and stomped down hard, its talons clearly intent on sinking into Draco's chest. He rolled and screamed in pain as those talon ripped down his back, and he crawled away, half turned, and choked out, "Avada Kedavra!" The creature froze – eyes dulled, even its breath's hissing went silent, and with one final, horrifically silent heave of its chest, it fell, bones caving into the corpse, and small lights burst from its body, engulfing it like tiny, luminescent maggots, devouring it in seconds. The wizard stared at the room – pale blood streaked every surface, pebbles littered the floor, and yet it held a sort of macabre elegance, a hideous, grotesque mockery of the shimmering beauty of the rest of the palace. He inhaled sharply and gagged; the scent her smelled earlier – how long ago? – was gone, replaced by the smell of salt, filth, and burnt, rotting flesh.

_Do not tarry here – he is dying, and soon, so soon...Hurry..._ The voice was not frantic, in spite of its words; while Draco would have normally disregarded it as more trickery of the twisted underwater palace and its enigmatic Queen, it had saved him, though the doppelganger _had _warned him. Confusion and disorientation struggled for control, but he ignored it, struggling to his feet and limping to the door after a quick spell to his bloodied back; he had a Saviour to save.

* * *

><p>He had apparently fallen asleep – but for how long, he couldn't say. The blonde merman was lying behind him, running his fingers through his hair gently, humming a little under his breath.<p>

"A wave lord's greeting, lovely one." Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily as he stretched a little. He jumped and squeaked, wriggling away from him as the sensation of his teeth scraping against the nape of his neck.

"Mm – I am sorry." The blonde ran his fingers through his pale 'hair', eyes glittering. The wizard sat silent, feeling weak and brittle, but something else prickled in the back of his mind. The prince moved away in surprise as he rose and padded to the door, splaying his hands across the shell.

"Harry?" He stared at the opaque surface, feeling something akin to hysteria rise in him at the smell.

Blood. Someone was bleeding, and close by – Draco...but who was Draco?

"Harry, love? Is everything well?" He turned slowly, eyes locking with his shimmering silver ones, and stretched slowly, arching a little against the door. The prince glided across the room, draping himself across the wizard, nuzzling his throat and purring softly.

"I'm fine." He stared up at him and stretched again, watching his pupils dilate under the misty silver veil. The prince dropped his head and nipped his throat, growling a little under his purr.

"Flirt..." The sanguine scent was closer, and if he strained, he could hear...something under the murmur of the waterfall. It seemed so much louder when he needed to hear beyond it. He again felt teeth pierce his skin, but he couldn't move – he felt a rush and the sensation of something cold in his bloodstream, and the room wavered.

"Oh, my poor little one." The prince's voice had turned harsh and raw.

"So alone, and powerless..." It was as sudden as it was agonizing – the venom that had been shot through his veins suddenly ceased, and he reacted instantly.

* * *

><p>Draco had expected him to be dead, or at least dying, so seeing him shooting spells in rapid succession (including a few that Draco wondered what he'd been thinking at the time of casting them) was a shock. Like the shadowed room's doppelganger, this one too had undergone a grotesque transformation, but he could see it was meant to be a doppelganger of him – and he could <em>also <em>see it had bitten Harry, who was staggering and weaving, trying desperately to hit the rapidly moving target who was also trying to hit – or just eat – him. Harry had bound the creature twice since he'd entered, and each time it had shaken it off – they hadn't even been the same spell. He stumbled back and almost hexed Draco, not expecting to see him at all – his eyes were unbelievably wide, and in one heart-wrenching second, terror melted into teary-eyed relief. The second was too long – the creature lunged, sinking its enormous teeth into Harry's throat, locking its distended jaws onto his throat. Panic flashed in eyes that began to go dull, and Draco had to react instantaneously. The creature fell away, stiff, with the flash of green light that seemed to strike some light back into Harry's dimming eyes. Blood gushed sluggishly from his neck, falling in sticky streams between his fingers and mixing with the pale, thin blood of the morphed merman. Panicking, Draco stripped off the thin robe and tore at it, swearing foully when it wouldn't tear and turning his wand on it. Trembling, he tried to alternately heal, clean, and bandage the wound, fatigue sweeping through him along with the nausea-inducing 'stench' of the magic he'd experienced earlier when helping Ron escape.

"Come on, Potter – Harry. Come on, don't die on me, just – come on." He tied off the shimmering, gauzy cloth, swallowing hard as the blood continued to gush and saturate the thin cloth.

"Gods..." The brunette stared at him, swaying a little, eyes slightly unfocused. The sound of hissing and scuffling outside snapped them out of the haze, and Draco dragged Harry to the corner of the room with the bed, shoving him down and under it, lying flush again him, eyes and wand locked on the door. The lithe merpeople glided into the room, laughing gaily, surrounded by the tarantula crabs, who lined the room, avoiding the falling water, hissing a little. Harry groped blindly for Draco's hand, still trembling. A pair of mermen settled beside the body as the majority of the mermaids, spotting it, began to keen in sorrow. The crabs skittered about in uncertainty, not reacting well to the sound. Harry's eyes were dilating, glazed with pain, and Draco felt panic rise again.

_Avert your eyes. _He stared at the body, then looked over at Harry, who had closed his eyes.

_Who-_

_Avert your eyes! _He couldn't bring himself to, and immediately he wished he had.

* * *

><p>AN: Eeeeeeek. BUT I FINALLY CAN POST! -happeh dance!- So, hope to see reviews ('specially on that...fight...scene). I'm at a loss for how this went. XD


	6. Surface Interlude

**A/N-**

Neve (whose name I constantly add an r to) refused to cooperate. . So pheh them. XD Also, I inserted a (version) of one of my OCs – for Z's sake (since she's the only one on here to my knowledge who would know who she is), it's Void!Serenity. Geh. I tried to make this longer, but I couldn't. XD I'd call this the surface interlude.

* * *

><p>Ron threw another pebble across the slick surface, staring blindly at the dark ice, thoughts roiling sickeningly.<p>

"Ron?" He grunted, not bothering to look up as Neve eased herself down next to him, brushing the frosted grass as if to rid it of dust or dirt. Ridiculous. She leaned over to him, trying to engage him. He continued to stare forward, fingers curling into the cold, hard packed earth.

"You needn't worry, Ron."

"You don't know how close to death he's come – _both _of them." Neve started, grasping at the quickly fleeing straws of the conversation.

"I-"

"Don't, Neve. Look, I'm glad you care about them, and I appreciate your concern for _me_, but don't act like you understand this. I should be down _there_," he nodded to the lake, "not up here, doing research. We always went as far as we could-"

"But you had a chance to get out! You _have _a chance to help them, from up here!" She rose, hand clenched into fists at her sides.

"Don't be selfish! This isn't about them, is it? This is about you and your need to be in the middle of the stupid fray! Don't you care about the people you'd leave behind, the people who care about you – the people who _love _you?" She swiped tears from her eyes, mouth trembling.

"Why – why can't you be _happy _that you're alive? They'll – they'll be fine..." She tapered off into a tremulous whisper, tears streaming down her heart-shaped face. Ron rose, hesitantly slipping his arms around her shoulders. She clung to him, burying her face into his shoulder and crying softly. He patted her back awkwardly, swallowing hard. It was maybe a selfish need, but hadn't he promised he'd be there for Harry, from the beginning? He'd slipped several times over the years, but he'd _tried_. Hearing anyone chastise him for that left him bemused as to where he should be, and not for the first time he wondered what he'd do after...this. His entire life from his first year at Hogwarts on had been defined by his status as Harry Potter's best friend; as the youngest son of the Weasley family, it was really all he could claim as his own. He was often torn in three different directions; honor his family and their legacy, break away from them _and _Harry, or just stand by and watch his life fly by while he struggled for some control. He was pulled from his chaotic thoughts by a soft sniffle, and looked down at Neve. She'd pulled back a little, dabbing at her red eyes.

"I-I am sorry, Ron. I had no right," she stammered, pulling away entirely. He produced a handkerchief and handed it to her after a cursory examination (making entirely sure he wasn't giving her one of the twins' pranks). She accepted it silently, trying to regain her dignity.

"You have a point, Neve..." She shrugged, staring at the crisp linen in her hands, then up at him.

"Does – does it feel colder to you?"

* * *

><p>Ginny levitated another heavy log into the fireplace before burrowing back into the quilt, trying to retain what little heat she had. She, along with Pansy, had Hermione sandwiched between them as they examined her notes and tried to stay warm. The temperatures were decreasing steadily; it had begun to snow yesterday, but now it was too cold – frost clung to everything, and ice seemed to be steadily encroaching, engulfing the manor and the nearby village in seemingly endless waves of ice storms.<p>

"Well...I came up with some more information from that old woman who told us about the Glass Queen. She's a member of the original Unseelie Court – but after a failed attempt at taking control, she was banished and became a pariah among all Faerie races. The original story says they bound her in an alternate world – surrounded by mirrors, so she only ever saw herself. I suppose she was particularly vain, but it's never directly stated..." Hermione took another swallow of the hot butterbeer one of the house elves had delivered, and continued.

"Apparently, years in this realm twisted her mind completely, and she found a way out – by way of blood magic, killing a traveling pair of newlyweds by...making them fall into a lake and drown, after which she turned them to glass." The witch's teeth chattered a little, making her normally unending flow of information stilted and difficult to understand. The three girls all looked out the window as if expecting to see something, but the glass was fogged over on the inside and frosted on the outside.

"So, what does that mean for Harry and Malfoy?" asked Ginny, breath forming a thin cloud. Hermione shrugged, gripping the edges of her quilt to keep it from falling away from her shoulders.

"I don't know – at first, I thought perhaps V-Voldemort had entered into congress with her and somehow convinced her to kidnap Harry, but that doesn't explain what possessed them to try to swim the lake." She clutched the old quilt closer, staring into the flickering flames.

"It also doesn't tell us what to do next. Ron told us everything he could – but it's so...confusing..." She pressed herself closer to the two other witches.

"It's so _cold_..."

* * *

><p>It had been exactly three days, seventeen hours, and twenty one minutes since the boys had gone under, and they'd gotten almost nowhere. Sirius tossed another icy stone across the frozen lake's surface, staring blindly after it as it clattered past Ron's wand. Remus paced beside him, eyes occasionally flicking to the sky where a fat moon hung, reminding him of his cursed life less than subtly. Severus stood beside him, eyes on the ice.<p>

"Four times counterclockwise?"

"Yes, Severus – four times."

"After which the ice formed?" Sirius nodded, jaw tight. The Potions Master grimaced.

"I know little of elemental magic, but of ritual magic I can attest – I believe she was setting back the seasons here."

"But if she set us back four seasons, it would still be summer!" Remus shook his head.

"No, Sirius – I think she didn't set us back from summer, she set us back from autumn, counting it as the first season." The werewolf clenched and unclenched his hands, eyes narrowing.

"However, strange as that seems, something else puzzles me. Ron said our message was garbled – certain words did not come through." He walked to the edge of the lake, staring down into the ice as if he could glean some answer from it.

"The Glass Queen-" His eyes widened as the epiphany crashed over him.

"She's like the Dark Lord!" Sirius looked up, startled and at a loss for where the werewolf had gotten _that _idea.

"What-"

"She isn't truly malicious, as he is, and she's not trying to kill Harry for gain – but her _name_. The Glass Queen – it gives her power, but she hates it; she won't let them hear it from us. She might use it in mockery, but _we _cannot say it to them! The woman is fractured – part of her is the Glass Queen, and part of her is the woman she once was!"

"I see I was not wrong to place my faith in Merlin's people again..." The three wizards started, wands appearing in battle worn hands as the witches and Ron burst into the clearing, obviously meaning to tell them something but distracted by the scene before them.

"What-"

"Cease your posturing – you cannot imagine the consequences if you were to harm me." A blast of frigid wind cleared the lake's surface of what little snow had lighted there, as if heralding her arrival. She settled in the tree Hermione and Ginny had been sitting under only three days prior, one leg crossed over the other, hands braced on the branch behind her. She wore a dress of medieval origin – dark blue and emerald green paneled skirts split over a shimmering white under-gown. However, instead of any of the variety of sleeves and corsets, she wore armour – black, stopping at her hips, featuring a trio of interlocked ouroboros; one white, one green, and one blue. One gauntleted hand moved from the branch, and she beckoned a little, a small smile barely gracing her pale pink lips. She was overall, very pale – even her blonde hair seemed almost white. Only the dress and armour (for her cloak was white) gave her any colour, lest she seem to be nothing more than a phantom. However, where one might assume, as a pale blonde, her eyes would be grey, silver, or blue, they were instead black – an ebon hue that devoured light and seemed horrifically large. The wizarding folk hesitantly gathered beneath the tree, looking up at her.

"Who-"

"Remus Lupin, I would have thought you of all people would know better. Save those questions for someone who matters." The light, humorous scolding fell on deaf ears as they all looked to Remus, expecting him to explain. He stared back and shrugged a little, nodding back to the woman in the tree.

"Fine. Can we assist you?" She leapt down, landing with a small spray of snow.

"I can help you bring your boys back from the Glass Queen's hold – but it will require some cooperation on their part, and may even warp them entirely, though perhaps not for the worse." She frowned.

"I cannot stay long now – know this. You must find the Glass Queen among the villagers; a woman among them will hold her heart, and know her truth. Speak her name, and you may free them. I will speak with the boys myself." She held up one hand and watched snow swirl around it.

"Be warned – speak no longer of 'the Glass Queen'; you have given her enough power to last a thousand lifetimes, but it ends soon...you needn't fear for their lives, if you do as I have told you. In the library of the manor, there is a statue of lovers separated. Place their hands together and rejoin them; their love with reveal the last of the Queen's secrets." She stepped onto the ice, cloak flaring out around her.

"I pray you are not too late – the threat that rises in the darkness can only be ended when you have seen past the shadows of your hearts. Perhaps this is what you require..."

* * *

><p>AN: Augh augh augh SO SHORT I AM SO SORRY. -dies-


	7. Unravelling Mysteries

**A/N-**

Mating cannibalistic merthings. There, I warned you.

* * *

><p>Draco barely managed to cast a silencing spell on himself and Harry when Harry began to vomit, causing more blood to gush from his wound and spurt through the weak bandage into the bile. Draco shuddered, unable to drag his eyes away from the horrors in front of them and unable to vomit himself.<p>

The keening mermaids were still crying, but the two mermen had morphed, like the princes; distended jaws closed around the limbs of the rapidly decaying corpse. Snarls and whines left them in bursts, between the sounds of bones crunching. Draco noticed a frill of spines on the backs of their necks that flared constantly. The mermaids had stopped sobbing, and had begun to morph themselves; but where the transformation halted for the males, it continued a bit more for the females. Horns burst from the ridges on their skulls, two curling to the sides, framing the face, while the third, shorter than the first two, extended straight out. Screeching soon accompanied the snarls and whines, and the body was decimated; only a greasy spot, a few flakes of skin, and some odd, writhing patch of light remained. The two males turned on each other seconds later, jaws locking as legs morphed into powerful, spiny tails that slammed into one another as they wrestled. The women scattered, hissing and screeching, writhing against one another as the match intensified, ending when the larger male ripped the smaller one's lower jaw off and then sank its teeth into its throat. The creature spasmed in death throes, then went limp, inverted ribs snapping and imbedding themselves into its body as it fell back.

The triumphant male bellowed, revealing every three inch tooth, then tore into its victim's body, hissing a little at the keening women behind it now and again. Eventually the largest of those females forced her way onto the kill, snapping at the much larger male but holding her ground. He backed off after a few moments of posturing, and she devoured her fill, then turned on him. Draco expected another slaughter, but the female had more carnal expectations.

* * *

><p>Their jaws locked in a way similar to the way the two males had earlier, but without any of the deadly intention. The muscles relaxed, and they merely rested in that position, before tails suddenly whipped forward, locking together in a pulsating clench of mottled flesh, and two tentacles extended from the female's mouth into the male's. Draco finally closed his eyes, unable to block out the strange, high pitched squeals and disturbing squelches, and unable to prevent his mind from providing horrific insights as to what they might be doing. His eyes flicked to where a hideously pale Harry lay, eyes glazing a little. They had to get out of the Chamber, they had to get out of the <em>lake<em>, but currently they needed to get past the creatures inhabiting the room. He inched closer to the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the door, ignoring the male who was now circulating through the females. There were two crabs on either side of the door, and more beside that around the room.

"Fuck..." He searched for something, _anything_ that might be of assistance; he'd heard of tarantula crabs, and so had been able to provide the poison, but this was completely out of his range of knowledge. He felt Harry's cold hands against his back, and was further reminded of the danger – the Gryffindor was bleeding heavily, but didn't seem to be losing all the blood that he was seeing.

"Harry?" The brunette nodded stiffly, and he sighed.

"We need to get out, but-" He froze when he heard the mercreatures scream as one, and his attention was again monopolized – and caught.

The Potter doppelganger was back – except he'd _seen _it die. He'd gone back to his original form, and was calmly tearing the others apart, fighting with blades mounted on the back of his hands and with his spiked, armour plated tail. The mercreatures were destroyed almost instantaneously, and like the original Potter doppelganger, were devoured by brilliant maggots that disintegrated after finishing the bodies and the tarantula crabs off. The doppelganger stood for a moment in the midst of the disintegrating bugs, then turned, eyes locking with Draco's – before he disintegrated himself into a shower of gold dust.

Draco found himself briefly immobile, before he dragged himself from under the low bed, pulling Harry after him. He helped him onto the soft surface and sat next to him, replacing the gauzy bandage (this time with the heavier material of his shirt, and he prayed he wouldn't catch a cold over this,) and healing more of his wound.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm covered in blood and probably vomit," replied the other teen softly, swaying where he sat, "and I can smell it – something's out there. Pine and rose...and rain." He shuddered and pushed Draco's hands away, eyes locked on the door.

"She – Hedwig?" Confused by the sudden transition (and wasn't Hedwig his owl?), Draco followed his gaze to the opening door. A woman had entered, pushing the hood of her pale cloak away.

"I'm surprised, Harry – I never would have expected you to recognize me in my original form." The woman glided forward, and Draco realized she was transparent. She eyed the wound on Harry's throat with concern, saying, "You are worse off than I thought – but it is of no matter." She reached forward and sank her hand into his throat, ignoring Draco startled objection as Harry cried out, not expecting the ice that shot through him.

"Shh...this is necessary if you are to make it out of here alive." The wound began to heal, slowly – the blood stopped gushing, and the rapidly atrophying skin he'd stunningly overlooked began to creep back, growing over the wound at speeds rarely possibly even with magic.

"What-" he stopped, stunned.

* * *

><p>She was gone, and the room was fading; the walls grew hazy and melted into mist, the furniture disintegrated into a thousand tiny shells, and the water ran to white and black sand. Harry clutched his arm, shivering.<p>

"D-Draco – so _cold_..." The blonde started and pulled him to his feet, throwing an arm around his shoulders to try to keep him upright. The Chamber was gone, but the room was not; they stood in a dark cube, faceted black glass surrounding them – and no door. The sand, shells, and mist remained, and some few late maggots disintegrated here and there. The melodic tones, now undeniably feminine, rang through his mind.

_You have little time – to be free of these illusions, you must defeat the glass and shadows around your heart. _

"What the hell does that even mean!" There was no answer, and it was all Draco could do not to hurl something – and there was little to choose from – at the glossy black walls around them. Harry swayed, mumbling something incoherent.

"_What, _Potter?"

"Mirrors...ice..." The blonde realised, despite the incoherency of the statement, that the other wizard was right – ice was coating the floor, beginning as frost and then thickening, becoming shimmery and opaque – and it was surging toward them. He looked around frantically; the furniture was gone, and he sure as hell couldn't throw the Gryffindor.

"Shadows and glass...shadows and glass..." He slowly lowered Harry back to the floor and began to circle the room, heart pounding.

"Shadows and glass..." He tapped the wall, startled when it rang like a bell; a second tap sounded like a crack of thunder.

"Shadows and glass..." _Shadows and glass? What the hell does that even-_ He stopped, whirling on Harry.

"Potter, what mirrors?"

"'Round us..." Draco turned, hand splayed across the glass. Impossible.

"Merely improbable," he muttered, stepping back. A few more steps, and then he ran forward, eyes snapping shut and clenching painfully as he slammed into the wall, gasping in pain as it not only shattered, but imploded; he was engulfed in a flurry of shimmering shards, and covered in cuts in seconds, cuts that bled not blood, but fine black sand. He stared at the granules in horror, heart pounding harder. His chest ached; each breath felt like he was struggling against incessant hammer blows to his lungs.

"Draco!" He gasped, startled by the iciness of the other wizard's hands and his astonishingly loud voice.

"What, damn it!" He jerked away from the Gryffindor, chest heaving. His hands were covered in tiny rivulets of blood, and he barely choked back a disbelieving laugh; it was like last year all over again, miniaturized.

"Draco, Draco – pay attention! Snap out of it!" The slap made his ears ring, but it accomplished what Harry had wanted – recovering Draco's attention.

"Gods _damn it_, Potter!" The Gryffindor grinned weakly, hands curled into pale fists as he struggled to stay upright.

"We have to get out of here, Draco."

"I never would have guessed, Potter," drawled the other teen icily, eyes flicking around their new surroundings.

"But where is here?"

* * *

><p>Pansy stared at the bare stone wall, chewing her lip. As far from the warmth as she was, it was strange that no frost had lighted here – and that she was not cold. None of the many charms woven into the manor's foundation worked against the Glass Queen's insidious Fae magics; the temperatures plunged daily, and soon everyone was rotating through spells; every pair cast warming charms every hour, to prevent someone growing too tired or worse, from suffering magical dehydration, for lack of a better term. The magics that imbued a person were drained so badly that their magic core destabilized – generally, it was fatal.<p>

But that was neither here nor there when Pansy finally acted, pressing against the wall of the library tentatively; it had attracted her attention because it was not only untouched by the rich hangings that covered the rest of the room, but because there was an odd, paler spot on the floor – as if something that had stood there for many years had been moved.

"Pansy?" She started, looking over her shoulder at Hermione.

"Come look at this," she beckoned, holding out the heavy quilt so Hermione could stand beneath it with her. The shorter girl pressed herself into her side, shivering.

"W-what's this?"

"I don't know." The two witches stared at the wall, then shared a look.

"She said there are two statues in the library – that spot could be the imprint of a pedestal," commented Hermione finally, rubbing her shoulders and accidentally letting the quilt fall. Both witches grabbed for it and missed – fingers curled together instead, and they stood still, staring at each, before Pansy finally released her hand, blushing furiously as she scooped up the quilt and tucked it back around them.

"I'm sor-"

"Oh, look!" Hermione tugged her forward, startling the other witch.

"What's this?" She pressed in a darker, slightly raised stone and didn't even manage to scream when they dropped.

* * *

><p>Sirius groaned and absently refreshed the heating spell on his cloak, collapsing with a dull thump as Severus and Remus turned the corner.<p>

"Nothing?"

"I can't even smell them – it's too cold," he complained, burrowing into himself like a scruffy, disgruntled baby owl. The Potions Master cast several more heating spells, eyeing the area Sirius had collapsed in front of.

"Black, what do you make of this?" he finally asked, toeing a pale spot in the dark floor.

"Dunno."

"Eloquent as ever." He ignored the growl to crouch, trailing his fingers across the stone.

"Something heavy – rarely moved, if the discoloration is anything to go on – used to be here." Remus crouched next to him, inhaling deeply.

"No mold...well tended...probably a statue, or possibly a suit of armour."

"There aren't any suits of armour elsewhere in the house," Severus provided, expression wary.

"Then a statue, certainly." Sirius sniffed and sneezed, rising stiffly.

"How can you smell anything, Remy?" The werewolf gave him a dry look that mirrored Severus's.

"I'm a werewolf, Sirius – even on my worst days, I can out-smell you." The Animagus wrinkled his nose and huffed, crossing his arms.

"Don't pout, Black – if it makes you feel better, I can smell less than you," quipped Severus, turning all his attention from the pair back to the floor. Sirius paused, then grinned wolfishly, punching the stoic man in the shoulder and throwing him off balance.

"That it does, Sevvy," he laughed, ignoring the glare that should have been flaying him alive. Remus steadied the Potions Master, rolling his eyes at Sirius's antics. The Slytherin professor freed himself from the werewolf's hold, brushing himself off and nonchalantly sticking his foot out as Sirius passed. The Animagus performed a far from graceful somersault into the wall, inciting a sharp bark of laughter similar to his own from Remus.

"Children, _behave_," he managed between chortles, barely restraining Sirius.

"We're supposed to be looking for Hermione and Pansy." They all sobered at that, eyes turning to the pale spot in the floor, when Sirius finally noticed it.

"Is that stone raised?" Remus made a noise of surprise, then looked around them.

"Siri, move."

"What?" The book sailed past his head and slammed into the stone, forcing it in and opening the staircase into the floor.

"Damn it, Remus!"

"I said move," replied the other man airily, gliding past him. Severus followed with a snicker, leaving Sirius to bring up the rear.

* * *

><p>The next room was, apparently, an extension of the library; here, however, warmth imbued the entire room, and none of the books seemed to be of the same ilk as those above – in fact, they appeared to be the same book at first glance. Remus pulled one down from the shelves carved into the foundations themselves, eyeing it dubiously before flipping it open.<p>

"What is it?" called Sirius from yet another room deeper in the caverns.

"I'm not sure...it looks like Old English, possibly." Severus leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the worlds.

"Old English – and Welsh. Here and here," he touched the page, "Irish. Black, come here before you break something," he called absently, eyes never leaving the book even when the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground sounded from the other room. A few translation spells, a summoning spell, and a copying spell later, they had figured out what all of the many tomes were.

"Memoirs – from Camelot..." whispered Remus in awe, fingers almost caressing the parchment.

"But what are they doing here?" Severus shook his head, indicating he too did not know.

"That's all very well and good, but I think I found one of the statues," came Sirius's voice, muffled. The other two wizards started, as if surprised to hear him, but the gravity of the situation nevertheless crashed down on them again and they rushed to see what he'd discovered.

The Animagus had broken through the wall, apparently.

"I don't think I even want to know how you did this, Sirius," Remus commented, eyeing the rubble. The Animagus shrugged, nodding to the statue.

"Wow..." The statue was, in a word, enormous. They were out from under the foundations and in a network of tunnels and caverns, some man and magic made, others natural. The 'ceiling' here soared hundreds of feet above them – the top could not be seen. The statue stood out against the dark rock, smooth, pale stone glistening with an inner luminescence. The man stood in the cradle of waves and a roaring dragon, wings unfurled and curled forward in a canopy of sorts. Quartz made up the waves and lightning flying from the man's raised staff, and with further examination, the three realised who it was.

"_Merlin._" Literally, as it were. The three wizards stared in awe at the European Wizarding World's most famous patriarch, visibly awed. Finally, Remus noticed his other, outstretched hand and something else.

"The stone in his staff is dim." Severus blinked.

"So? Stones dull with age, Lupin-"

"No, the light inside the stone is dim, Severus," snapped the werewolf, nostrils flaring.

"Something is wrong..." He turned slowly, eyes narrowing.

"Sirius, can you smell that?" The other man looked miffed.

"Clearly not. What-" The statue's eyes, carved shut, snapped open.

* * *

><p>AN: This is so incredibly late. -gah- I got stuck as Harry's wound was healing -ha- so...yeah. Also, that ending is maybe incredibly tacky and in a month I might hate it, but...that's all irrelevent! REVIEW.


	8. Passing the Crystal Torch

A/N: OMG SO LATE AND THEN FFNET WOULDN'T LET ME POST AND I PANICKED BUT IT'S OKAY NOW THANK HERA AND JUNO. -exhales- SO! This is not exactly how I'd have loved it. It's...okay, but eh. . So...yeah, read it please. XD Enjoy.

* * *

><p>The village, though in the grips of vicious Fae magic and a false winter unlike anything anyone had ever seen, was picture-esque and brought to mind holiday cards and the like. Sparkling icicles, swirling frost patterns, and light snowfall – unnaturally brought about by the blasts of arctic wind knocking what little snow remained from the skeletal trees and thatched rooftops.<p>

Ron and Neve, accompanied by the Lady Malfoy herself, were going through the town with the rest of the Weasley boys, while Molly, Arthur, and Ginny remained at the manor searching for the missing girls. Currently, Neve had dragged Ron into a tiny shop that usually sold the glamours the region was known for – called Nymph Kisses.

The dank little building was improved upon not at all by the bone chilling curse resting over the village, and with no fireplace, torches, or anything else that might provide warmth, it was a wonder the tiny woman bustling about was still alive, let alone energetic enough to pawn her wares.

"And these are made from acromantula silk and rose quartz," she croaked, holding up a pair of shimmering earrings to Neve in palsy-stricken hands, weary eyes bright. The witch ooh'd and accepted them, holding the delicate things up to the dim light. The pale silk had been dyed a pearly pink and braided into a triquetra into which, at each point, a rose quartz piece, a moonstone piece, and a clear quartz piece had been woven. Dangling from it was a Celtic knot forming a heart at the center of which those same stones were nestled. The woman beamed as Neve gazed blissfully at the earrings, while Ron found himself cornered by an old foe.

"Bloody..._spider_..." The thing had to be as big as a regular pawn; hairy and sluggish, it certainly should not have survived the unnatural freeze the village was under. One of its legs was missing, but the stump still twitched some, adding to Ron's general displeasure and disgust.

"Ron, what do you think of these? Ron?" Neve joined him in the dusty corner, puzzled by his pale face.

"Ron, what is it?" He made a strangled sound and gestured a little to the large spider. Neve blinked – then understanding dawned in her eyes.

"Oh, dear – Ginny mentioned you were afraid of spiders," she said, touching his arm in concern.

"But there's nothing to be afraid of, Ron." She reached out and slowly slid her hand under the spider, letting it scurry up her hand as she pulled it from the window sill it had been inhabiting against all odds. Ron choked and squeaked all at once, stumbling back in horror.

"Oh, Ron. It's nothing," she repeated, smiling at him.

"It's a _spider_, it has _more than four legs, _and it's _creepy_. Bloody _hell_, how can you stand it!" He ignored the shop owner's glare at his language, transfixed by the spider skittering up Neve's arm. She calmly returned it to the sill and crossed the distance between them, hands on her hips.

"It's no big deal, Ron." He managed something completely incoherent and strangled, before clearing his throat and nodding to the earrings in her hands.

"Very pretty," he mumbled, eager to turn attention from his (not entirely) irrational phobia. She shook her head and smiled.

"Oh, Ron..." He studiously ignored the sensation in his chest that he'd once applied to Hermione's smile and began to wander again. Further in the shop, pendulums, dowsing rods, and crystal balls littered the shelves. He picked a pendulum, absently catching a plain iron locket that had begun to fall beside it and righting it, before turning the shimmering crystal in his hands. On a whim, he wandered to the map of town the woman had produced for them when she heard they needed help looking for information on the Glass Queen. She'd pointed out several houses, and now he wondered if perhaps simple divination could assist them – even though the chance was likely slim, and he didn't even trust divination on a good day. He slowly lowered the crystal back onto the shelf, eyes flitting to a door to the back of the room, ajar. He inched forward, curiosity overtaking him despite the voice of reason in the back of his mind that chose to sound like his Head of House, demanding to know when looking into a suspicious room was _ever _a good idea. He nudged it open, looking around the edge of the wood suspiciously.

* * *

><p>The new room was small; almost a closet and nothing more, but Ron had never known closets to be empty save for one thing. That was more customary in vaults. A single table, draped in ratty blue velvet, and a box – wooden, charred with tarnished buckles and crumbling leather straps. He approached the decrepit scene without caution, folding his arms across his chest as he stared down at the box, the hair on the back of his neck prickling.<p>

"Ron? Ron, have you seen the shop owner? She disappeared – what's this?" Neve asked, pushing the door open completely and joining him.

"A closet?" Ron shrugged, staring at the box. Neve read his look and sighed.

"Ron, we don't have to know what's in the box," she scolded, tugging on his arm. He pulled away, offering a small smile.

"We don't have to – but we're looking for clues."

"They're probably old love letters of the shop owner's. Leave it alone."

"Neve – instinct." She stared at him, half bemused and half exasperated, before she understood.

"We can't base this on your _instincts_," she hissed, eyes flicking between the door and Ron. The redhead ignored her, moving closer to the box and laying his hands on the small table, staring at the weathered container.

Confusion rippled through him at the burn marks; where had they come from? Musing on these for a mere moment, he finally flipped up one latch and then the other, before flipping the lid open completely; nestled in more crumbling, dust-choked velvet was a anatomically correct glass heart, sluggishly pumping silver and red blood that pooled in the disintegrating fabric recesses of the box. He stared down at the drenched velvet and its crystalline heart, his pulse pounding at the sight. Neve's strangled gasp did little to free him of the chilling horror as he stared at the minute pulses, growing more pronounced and faster with each moment.

"What – how did you get in here? Who are you!" Both teens whirled, Neve barely choking off an alarmed cry. The woman standing before them resembled the shop keeper – but she was too young, barely older than they were; yet her eyes were the same, held the same bizarre balance of bright weariness as before. It was as if she'd aged backward in a matter of moments. Neve backed up into Ron, clutching his arm unconsciously.

"I-I'm sorry – we thought it was part of the shop-"

"Don't _lie _to me, little girl – I can see through your heart as if you were as transparent as-" she stopped, giggling harshly, "_glass_." The door swung shut and the room morphed; a single enormous mirror took up the entire back wall, while many smaller mirrors turned the walls into faceted surfaces that reflected alien images back at the occupants. The table, its velvet cover, and the box remained the same. The Glass Queen – for that was who she was now – flicked her hand negligently at one of the thin, six feet tall mirrors, harsh expression turning cruel. Neve whirled with the motion, yanking Ron with her, expecting an attack, but one never came. Instead, the largest mirror shimmered and grew hazy, before the mists cleared, revealing Narcissa, still in the store's main room. She turned, as if she'd heard something, then gasped – though there was no sound. The image froze, and light gathered around Narcissa's image, flowed from the main mirror, and sank into the smaller ones with a tiny flash, and there, encased in a glass coffin, was Narcissa, frozen in her shock.

"Aunt Cissa!" Ron restrained the blonde witch, fumbling for his wand with his other hand, only to see both lengths of wood fly to the Queen. She examined them icily, then tosses them aside, where they embedded into one of the other mirrors.

"Foolish children," she sighed, cruel gaze softening into something akin to mourning.

"Whatever am I to do with you?" She giggled again, waving her hand and summoning two shimmering glass chairs with silver pillows.

"Sit – and please, drink." Glass goblets materialized and floated ominously beside the chairs. A blast of icy wind drove them back hard into the chairs, and the Queen glided forward, catching her own goblet in pale, thin hands. Ron stared at the goblet, then at the Queen, jaw going tight.

"What have you done to Harry and Malfoy?" The woman loosed a sharp bark of laughter – less like Sirius's canine sound and more akin perhaps to something breaking; abrupt and sharp.

"Oh, Ronald! How lovely that you would ask after your friends when you should be more worried about what I've done to _you_." Neve's eyes flicked between the skeptical wizard and the gloating woman.

"W-What?"

"Mm – yes, what have I done to young Master Weasley? Did you and your companions not take supper with us amidst the waters of my home, and did you not ingest, perhaps without your knowledge, a trace amount of deadly poison?" She laughed at his dumbstruck expression.

"I had planned to kill you, for what use were you to me? Your wand sealed the enchantment on this forsaken village and on the lake; I needed not bother with you. But I underestimated you – you and your friends. You discovered my secret and you escaped; the chance of failure was too great. I poisoned the gillyweed you ate, and now you sit before me, decaying from the inside, impossible to save – unless, of course, I do so by my own grace." Her laughter grew louder and echoed around them as Neve's gasp turned into a stifled sob, and Ron felt despair and horror clash in his heart.

* * *

><p>Ginny pulled the heavy fur-lined cloak tighter around her body, slipping some on a particularly slick cobblestone. The rest of her family, along with Lucius Malfoy, was still in the Manor, searching Hermione, Pansy, and now Snape, Lupin, and Sirius. The disappearances were likely because of their search for the statues, but that did nothing to lessen their fear. Molly, worried she might lose her only daughter to whatever was in the house, sent her to join her brother, Narcissa, and Neve in the village. She'd just left the old witch who'd assisted them in the first place, heading to the shop she'd sent the three to. The door was open – literally thrown open to the elements, setting off alarm bells left and right in Ginny's head. The redheaded witch pulled her wand from the heavy folds of the cloak, struggling to grasp it properly in the cold.<p>

"Hello? Ron, Neve? Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Hello, dearie; can I help you?" She turned sharply, not expecting to be addressed by the small, withered woman with shaking hands. She grinned at her, revealing several missing teeth.

"I'm looking for my brother and some others – they came here earlier." The old witch seemed to think, and in that breath of time she saw the blood red cloak Neve had been wearing earlier, bundled and tossed into a dusty corner. She gasped without thinking, drawing the woman's eyes to the corner.

"Oh, silly me – I should have dealt with that, shouldn't I? Well. I'll have to be more careful next time, won't I?" The old woman's body stiffened and seemed to crack and shatter; the shards of her body melted and remolded, flowing together to form a taller, younger woman with the same eyes.

"I can't let you wander about though, girl – come here." Ginny swore and threw off several hexes when she reached forward, wondering why she hadn't moved the moment the woman had begun to reform. One hex made contact, warped, and reflected off her; the redhead barely ducked and rolled to the side, chest heaving as she clutched at her wand. A particularly violent blast of Faerie-magic laden wind forced her to her knees, then seemed to rebound and slice across her face. Her eyes teared up and her vision became blurry, but she could still make out the woman approaching, something black and sharp in her hand – one of the ornamental knives she recalled seeing days ago when they'd first visited the shop.

"Stupid child – you thought you could face _me _with such pathetic magic?" Ginny rallied again for one last attack; ice coated the wood and burned through her gloves. She cried out and dropped the wand and it fell from her chilled fingers with a dull clatter. The Queen scoffed at her weak attempt and stamped down on the rod; it shattered, the wood brittle from cold and alien magic.

"Your family has a penchant for meddling, I see. Your brother dies soon, and now you – whatever will your mother do?" The blade descended with startling speed, and Ginny braced herself – but impact never came. The Glass Queen's scream mingled with the cry of an owl, and a flash of pale blue light washed through the shop. Ginny felt warmth and strength flow through her and rose even as the Glass Queen disappeared. She stumbled forward, eyes widening as she saw what lay in her place.

"H-Hedwig? Hedwig!" She rushed forward, cradling the snowy owl's broken body, when a soft sigh sounded through the shop. Her head whipped up, and she gaped in awe at the insubstantial form before her.

It was the woman who had told them of the statues and the Queen's weakness, albeit in a cryptic manner, by the lake.

"W-What-"

"It is I – Hedwig, that is. Ginny...Ginny, I am sorry. I could not protect you or Harry or any of the others as I swore I would. Many a time did Voldemort succeed in harming him where he should not have, and now this evil claims this village and more. I...am the Glass Queen." Ginny stared at her, and the shade laughed weakly.

"Or rather, I am what she once was – a guardian spirit of seasons, a member of the Faerie Court and of gentle disposition; I was foolish, though, and fell to that which many fall to – love." She shook her head.

"I have little time, and none for what is all but ancient history; accept this and save this village, these people, your friends. Perhaps in other circumstances, I would not have to lay such a burden on you, but I am without a choice now. Have faith, and have strength." The pale blue light rose and engulfed Ginny and Hedwig's prone form; the owl dissolved into the light, but Ginny found herself absorbing it.

"Wha – no, no, stop! Stop-" She gasped as the pale light and its mists sank into her skin and stunning sensation rushed through her. She squeaked as her hair suddenly cascaded around her, lengthening to her hips and a little past. The colour darkened, then paled; the red went to brown, and then settled on a warm gold – darker than blonde and still more red than not, but nevertheless nothing like her normal ginger tone. She stared at it, shaking still, then looked up at the quickly fading form.

"You must become the Glass Queen and do what I could not – have courage and stand against the foe I allowed to perpetuate, and save these people." She seemed to shiver.

"Come – I must speak to the others; give me your hand." Ginny stared at her offered hand in horror, and Hedwig sighed.

"Dear, you are as I am – take my hand. You have nothing to fear." The witch gingerly accepted the gauntleted hand and stifled a gasp when it proved to be there – cold and barely substantial, but there. The icy air rushed around them and they appeared with a blast of wind back at the manor.

"The village you entered was an illusion – you made it almost a mile when she realised you approached."

"Ginny! What – oh, my lady-"

"Cease, Molly; we have no time. The curse is limited to a few more hours, perhaps a day, before it destroys the village – and you. Harry and Draco will expire, and your world will be lost, for such a victory would make her bold. _There is no time_," she snapped, cutting off any questions the others might have had.

"You need not fear for the others here – they are well, if facing a challenge of their own. I will see to it that they know what has happened; you must go into the village and find the Queen. She grows stronger with every passing moment – _go._" Ginny barely braced herself before they were forcibly warped to the home of the elderly witch who had helped them before. The Weasley clan shared a look with Lucius, then moved almost as one to the door. Ginny trailed after them, starting sharply when something fluttered around her shoulders; she grasped it and stared, surprised.

It was the cloak, whiter than any white she'd seen before, that Hedwig had worn when she'd appeared to them before. A soft voice whispered through the air, almost inaudible.

_Go now, with my blessing, child; time is short, and death seeks us with night's retreat. With faith, courage, and luck – go._

* * *

><p>Ginny had little time to explain what had happened, as she understood it, to her family and Lucius, but the old witch helped her by snapping, "Who cares what she has become? Death is death, and it will come for us all with sunrise, be that tomorrow's or the day after's. You'll have time to lag about when this is over – now is the time for action!" As Ginny sought to formulate a plan with her grudging partners, the manor's occupants found themselves facing yet another deadly foe.<p>

Pansy and Hermione crouched behind a slab of rock that had once been part of the ceiling, staring over it cautiously at the raging statue – if a statue could rage.

"We found a statue," Pansy stated, wincing as a blast of magic obliterated a shard of stone to their left.

"Yes," Hermione answered, eyes wide.

"She's angry," the raven witch continued, tugging Hermione a little out of the way of the flying debris.

"Very," Hermione agreed fervently.

"And we still have to reunite her with her lover."

"Uh-huh."

"...Shite," Pansy summed it up for them both, sinking to the ground. Hermione huddled against her, head resting against the stone.

"Who would have thought Morgan Le Faye would have a lover? The great Morgana herself, Merlin's bane?" Pansy managed a weak laugh, dragging her fingers through her dusty hair, grimacing a little at it. Hermione shrugged, wincing as a growing bruise twinged.

"There's been speculation – but nothing concrete-"

"Anything coming to mind?"

"Merlin." Pansy stared at her, uncertain if she was merely exclaiming or answering the question.

"...Merlin. Did you miss the Merlin's bane part?" Hermione coughed and shook her head, flinching as a bolt of magic impacted with the wall in front of them.

"Sometimes we blow things out of proportion – and it makes some sense, doesn't it? They seemed to hate each other, and there's a thin line-"

"Between love and hate, I know – but she hated him! She basically turned him into a _tree_." Their conversation was cut short when the slab of stone they hid behind was disintegrated by a particularly furious blast of magic. Both witches scrambled to their feet, and Hermione cried, "Stop! Stop, stop, wait! We – we didn't mean to disturb you! We're trying to find a way to save our friends from the Glass Queen!" Pansy gaped at her, wondering what had possessed her to address the statue in the first place, but to her growing shock and consternation, the attacks halted and a voice sounded in the cavern.

"The Glass Queen – Guinevere's murderer? What has she done _now_? Merlin and I bound her with the assistance of Lancelot after Arthur fell and Mordred took the throne." The two teens shared a look; they'd certainly never heard _that _version of the Arthurian wizard myths.

"Um...she...she's cast false winter on the surrounding area and trapped two of our friends in the lake. A woman told us to find two statues here – of two l-lovers and reunite them-"

"A woman? Pale and shrouded in white, in a gown of cerulean and verdant hues? She of the black armour?" Hermione swallowed and stuttered an affirmative. Both women yelped when the statue stiffly descended from her platform, light flowing over her and forming a hazy image of the witch herself over the statue's unmoving features.

"The original Queen – Guinevere's protector. She came to you," the woman repeated, eyes downcast.

"Yes – yes, this is what Mordred begged of us. I apologise, maidens; I had believed you to be the ones who separated myself and Merlin in the first place. We were to protect this place, for a vision of Guinevere's saw it. Together, we could do so – apart, we could not. Perhaps it is not too late. Where is Merlin?" Pansy and Hermione shared a look.

"W-we don't know-"

"No matter. I can find him." The shade's fingers glowed, and the statue's hands, already raised and curled around an orb of crystal, blazed with light. A thin, watery beam shot away from it, pointing down a tunnel to the right.

"I will follow – lead me by the light's path to Merlin, and we will do what we can." Both witches again shared a look, nodded slowly, once, and began to walk.

* * *

><p>The three men fared little better, though their natures did not lend themselves to hiding. However, they were soon driven into the next room, behind a fallen bookcase.<p>

"Well; three grown wizards, and we're being beaten by a statue. Dumbledore would be ashamed." Severus snorted, pushing hair out of his eyes and replying to Sirius's glum statement, "I'm sure he's already wondering about the quality of education at Hogwarts – you passed, after all." The Animagus grumbled but didn't return the sally, preparing to rise again despite the onslaught of arcane magics from the statue in the next room. He yelped when the Potions Master yanked him down in unison with Remus.

"Do not even think of it, Black! He'll kill you in a moment or less. Cease your Gryffindorish tendencies and think for once, yes?" Sirius squirmed free of them, muttering.

"We can't just sit here-"

"Morgana?" All three wizards stared at one another, then thee next room, before rising in unison and heading into the room again. The statue had descended from the waves and the platform they were affixed to, a shimmering, translucent image of it wavering over the statue itself.

"Merlin, these children found me – the Glass Queen has awakened again." The three wizards gaped as the two shades embraced, however briefly, and the two statues settled together in the niche they'd found Merlin in in the first place.

"Impossible."

"Alas, it is not. The Queen sent them." Merlin's eyes turned to the three men, who all fidgeted some under his scrutiny.

"I understand why – they are possessed of some strength, and great discipline – stubborn and even foolhardy, but certainly not foolish. The Queen would not have sent fools." Remus finally spoke up, visibly confused.

"The Queen – who are you talking about. The Glass-"

"She is not only one woman, boy. A mere woman, alone, Fae or not, could not do what she does. She is fractured, but able to draw on all of her incarnations' power." He shifted restlessly.

"Together, Morgana and I can stave off the enchantment I sense – but we cannot hold out forever. We have gained you some hours, even perhaps a day or more – but that is all."

"You have done well," commented a new, faint voice. All five of them turned, looking around in confusion.

"Look not for me; I am not here. Death as claimed me, but I have passed my power to Ginny. Merlin and Morgana will protect this place – you must join the others in the village." Remus growled, starting the two witches.

"Who _are _you? You said nothing of being the Queen, but you oppose her?"

"All will be known – after this foul winter is thawed. _Go_, please – for Harry's sake..." This stirred instant reaction in most of them, and they began to leave, hesitantly casting glances over their shoulders at the statues.

"Go, go – we will stand against the magics here. Time draws shorter, and you have much to do."

* * *

><p>AN: Like I said; not exactly what I wanted. I plotted this out though so I know what's going to happen! -beams- Review~! I'll try to review back...no promises, because sometimes I have nothing nice to say or have no interest in the fandom. -sweatdrop-


	9. See Us In Your Eyes

Draco winced as Harry tried yet another healing spell on his cuts and scrapes, succeeding in making his skin burn but nothing else.

"Well, I tried," he finally said helplessly, turning watery green eyes on Draco. The blonde scowled when his heart constricted at the expression and snapped, "It's fine. Don't break up on me now. We have to get out of here."

'Here' being what appeared to be Hogwarts, if Hogwarts had been built by wraiths and blood hungry cannibals. Draco moved forward slowly, wand out, as he passed the enormous doors leading to the Great Hall. The heavy, carved slabs of wood were covered in niches, each niche occupied by a tasteful skull – not always human, but a skull nevertheless. A few of the more elaborate ones bore scratches across the bone, embedded gems or pieces of metal, and now and again one would still have pieces of rotting skin attached to it – usually around the eyes. The doors were slightly ajar – enough so that both teens took the imagined invitation and slipped inside. Draco absently held Harry's upper arm, a shade of support, as they gazed around what appeared to have been their home.

* * *

><p>Each table was set with a meal – the very feast they partook in with every new year. Harry paused, staring despondently at the waxy fruit, skin prickling and burning as Draco released him, moving forward to pick up a goblet. Blindly, he reached for the Slytherin ahead of him, fingers curling in a white-knuckled grip around his thin wrist. Draco slowed to a halt, wincing as blunt nails dug into his skin. Huffing, he twisted, sharp retort dissolving on his tongue at the strange look in the other wizard's eyes. Haunted and hungry, desperate. He stepped back without thinking, and flinched at the wide-eyed, soul baring stare burning the air between them.<p>

"Harry," he whispered, feeling his breath come faster, faster, tearing through his chest. The brunette shivered and slid past him, eyes shuttering, their light dimming abruptly.

* * *

><p>The air was heavy and hot; the fires seemed oily and weak, as if they could barely stay alight. As he had noticed before, the food was...strange, impossible and inedible seeming. A chance touch sent a pair of goblets clattering into one another; shimmering black dust poured from each one, choking the food it obscured. He hesitantly ran his fingers through the stuff, wincing when it snagged, like a thousand tiny claws hooking into his skin. Shaking his head slowly, Harry stepped back, wincing at the strange heaviness of his motions. It was like he was submerged in liquid cotton, blind and deaf and numb – alone.<p>

But there was something insistently pressing on him from the outside, begging to catch his attention, curling against the suffocating presence and pulling at him.

"Potter! Harry!" He felt as if his muscles had fused; sharp pain wracked him, and suddenly the smothering force was gone. The fires had gone out, the food had melted, and only the cold grip of Draco's hands around his wrists really anchored him.

"I'm fine," he murmured, tugging away, taking a limping step back. Draco eyed him sceptically, mouth twisting into a scowl.

"Like hell you are." Green eyes met grey, and then he was laughing. The sensation built under his diaphragm, sending spasms through his abdomen. It was soundless; his entire body shook with the force of it, his mind shut down with the numbing strength of the hilarity – or was it hysteria? The dam broke; tears streamed down his face, and he took desperate, gasping breaths, unsure if he was laughing or crying or both, hands flailing and clutching until they curled into the fabric of Draco's ragged robe. Burying his face into the other teen's shoulder, he clung to him until the fit passed, his skin turning clammy and slick, all heat draining from him. Pressing into the blonde, he let his mind race, thoughts swirling and stuttering across his consciousness in a broken ballet.

_What's happening? What's wrong with me? It doesn't hurt, I'm not in pain, I've never been so scared before – where are we? Is he okay? _He tugged on Draco's robe and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

_He's got to be okay. We're going to be okay. We're going to get out of here. Damn it, we are going to get out of here. _Draco's voice rang in his ears, "Harry?" His grip loosened, he exhaled, and he stepped back.

"I'm okay," he asserted, more to himself than to Draco. Casting a glance around their dank, shadowed surroundings, he continued, "We need to get out of here." The blonde scowled and raked a hand through his hair, the motion so uncharacteristic that Harry almost laughed at the sight of it.

"Yes, we do." He was startled by the short answer; no sarcasm, no biting insult to his intelligence? "You're slipping, Malfoy." It came out huskier than he'd meant it to, broke a barrier he hadn't even realised was there. Tilting his head to one side, he met the other's grey eyes and allowed a smirk to break across his face.

* * *

><p>Like a needle skipping across a spinning disk, his retort stuttered and died. He felt his eyes widen, his mouth go dry. Across from him, with scant space between them, the ragged Gryffindor smirked. His eyes lit up, and real life showed itself for the first time in – days? Hours? Against his will, a half-sardonic smile tugged at his lips in response. Advancing on his forced partner, he drawled, "<em>I'm <em>losing my touch? I thought you were the big hero here – why haven't you saved us, hmm?" Maybe there was bitterness there, but all it did was spark some viciously gleeful gleam in Harry's eyes, sending shocks down Draco's spine.

His weak attempt at deflection, tempered by his pleasure at the other wizard's regained liveliness, was as transparent as the glass of Hogwarts' windows, and he could tell the Gryffindor wasn't buying it. Not thinking, he gently knocked his shoulder against the other's, smirk breaking across his face and growing. Harry responded in the same fashion, and they ended up knocking into one another, their laughter bubbling up and echoing around the dim Hall. Their scuffle pushed them from the Hall and into the corridors, winding through them without preamble, lacking wariness. Mirrors tilted down from the ceiling, reflecting not them but their past. A fight, an argument, countered with their laughter and easy banter. They were oblivious to the mounting fury, the hiss of winds through empty corridors, the growled warning in the shadows. Something pulled them forward, deeper into the ancient halls that wavered in brilliant light.

* * *

><p>Their banter died down, and finally they collapsed into an empty classroom, winded though they'd done nothing to warrant it. Harry leaned against the Slytherin and hummed a jaunty, broken tune, twisting the unravelling bandage to and fro. Draco let his eyes close, the song whirling through his mind, something whispering lyrics unsung through the darkness.<p>

_Graves turned to dusty beds_

_A maiden darling meant to wed_

_Coolly touched by lake and ice_

_Lovelorn, bloodlust, greed and vice_

_Ice crept over golden roofs_

_A silver tongue sung the final tune_

_No wedding shall take place this night_

_The groom bled dry without a fight_

_Bride lost, bereft of love's warm light._

_Ice creeps over our sunken grave,_

_Winter claims love's lost pair._

The humming faltered and went dead; his eyes snapped open, and found only darkness.

"Harry? Potter!" He scrambled to his feet and turned, eyes darting around the musty room. It looked the same, but now he was surrounded by faceless shadows, each one murmuring either the lyrics in some sort of bizarre, genderless voice, or a myriad of conversations from his school year, loud in his ears and vicious, tinted with some sort of obscure cruelty. His ears buzzed and popped. The heaviness of the air seemed to dissipate, and a rush of sound, too loud, too high, exploded around him. The shadows were rent in one pass, the sounds of the screams barely penetrating the weird rush of air in his ears. Silver light swathed him, blinding as it rushed by, the sound of hollow hoofbeats sending a rain of sparks through him. Cool air washed over him as the too bright light snorted at him and circled him once. Spots clearing from his eyes, he stumbled back, barely registering the silver stag as it dissipated, leaving behind a frazzled Gryffindor.

"Draco! Don't you _ever _do that – what the hell were you – oh my _gods._" He grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, burying his face in the other's shoulder. Numbly, he returned the embrace, looking around over the other's shoulders.

"What happened?"

* * *

><p>Harry had panicked when the shards of mirror cut through the Great Hall, surrounding him and separating him from the dazed Slytherin. A barrage of shattering spells did nothing to remove them, and with each spell came the wave of nausea and sense of a stain deep within. Then, as they had come, they were gone, melting and draining from the room, Draco gone from the shaded hall. Panic, once subsided, rushed him again, and he'd fled the room, searching for the disappeared Slytherin with a single-mindedness he hadn't experienced in – well, years.<p>

Finding him surrounded by the hungry, hissing shadows had sent a rain of fear through his heart, and at the same time brought relief crashing down around him. The Patronus tore free of the wand almost without his bidding; he was stunned that it worked, and some rational part of his mind figured the personification of happy memories must easily dispel negative power.

And then he was clinging to the other male, pressing his face into his shoulder and swearing again and again in his mind that he wouldn't let him go, the possessiveness odd and yet reassuring to him. He had something to fight for, to hold onto, something tangible and immediate. His faith in his feelings for someone on the surface, someone too far away to hold and believe in, could not be shaken when it was directed at the very person forced to live through this hell with him. Carefully, he released his grip and stepped a little ways away, meeting Draco's eyes squarely.

"We have to stick together. We can't let her win this." A pale eyebrow rose, and for a moment he thought the other might dismiss him. Apprehension shot through him, and without thinking, he stuck his hand out.

* * *

><p>He wasn't sure the Gryffindor knew what he was doing, but it struck a chord in the Slytherin he didn't dare deny. A trickle of sweat broke his train of thought, and he saw the resolve in Harry's eyes falter. With the same knee-jerk response that had triggered this strange mirror of their past, he reached out and clasped his hand in his own, his grip almost painful. Silence stretched between them, before Harry dropped his eyes, not releasing his hand.<p>

"Promise me." Exhale, tighten his grip.

"I promise." The slightest motion – a handshake, more of a twitch of the muscles up and down. Release of the grasp. Lowered grey eyes, raised green. A hint of a smile. Above them, a circle of glass cracked and went black, the hazy past wizards dissolving with the rivalry below.

Something shivered in the air around them, a silky croon unvoiced but hanging in the air. The malice trembling around them was pushed back, and for a moment, they breathed again, at ease, but both sensed it – the wrath rumbling through the ancient halls in search of its prey.

* * *

><p>AN: HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY GUYS! It's baaaaaaaack. Yeah it's short, but I didn't want to blend the surface/lake bits.

All I can say is, thanks Indi. I really couldn't have gotten this out here without your review.

And yeah, that little poem/song is all me. I scribbled in a minute or something. It amused me to attempt it. Scary stuff, that.


End file.
